Fall From Grace
by Mishka89
Summary: “Demons I get, people are crazy.” Can Sam put Dean back together after his older brother is violently broken by one of the cruelest creatures around? WARNING: Mature content and violence abound.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Fall From Grace

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognize. The Winchesters or the Supernatural story. They belong to the CW and the wicked Mr Kripke. The story and any characters you don't recognize however is all from my sick and twisted mind.

**Summary: **"Demons I get, people are crazy." Can Sam put Dean back together after his older brother is violently broken by one of the cruelest creatures around?

**A/N: **What can I say about this? Well, I started writing this back in August '06 and have pretty much just finished me now. It's nursed me through final exams, boring holidays and hectic new school times. It's really a pet piece and I've had an absolute ball writing it, which does say something about my current mental status lol.

I would like to thank my awsome friend Niatona for the title. And the wicked KateCyrus who helped a bit with the first five chapters and sat through me whining about the rest.

It is set somewhere in the first season. Probably between 'The Benders' and 'Shadow', so there are no season two spoilers and hardly any season one either for that matter.

Right now it's rated a very strong T!! I will up the rating for certain chapters which are coming up or if people feel this is too intense for this rating. I know that this might seem all dark and gloomy but rest assured that if you stick with me there will be supernatural problems and hell, even a light at the end of the tunnel. I just have to have some fun first.

**WARNINGS: **This story contains torture in the first few chapters and yes, it is necessary. So if you have a light stomach I advise you to turn away. Strong language is included throughout the entire story. There will be more warnings as we go along. Keep in mind this is written for people with adult minds so there will be adult themes along the way.

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**tor·ture**  
_n._

1.

a. Infliction of severe physical pain as a means of punishment or coercion.

b. An instrument or a method for inflicting such pain.

2. Excruciating physical or mental pain; agony: _the torture of waiting in suspense._

3. Something causing severe pain or anguish.

_**Chapter One**_

His brother's screams pierced through his heart like jagged glass. Sam clenched his eyes shut tightly against a sound he never should have to hear. Ever. Dean's screams were blood curdling and Sam fought against his bonds, to try and get to his brother, but like every time he had done so for the last few days his struggles came to no avail.

"Stop it! Please stop it!" Sam bit out. He couldn't take it anymore. This was all his fault! They never should have taken this job but he had insisted. _Stupid Sam! Very fucking stupid!_

A laugh that was so evil it shouldn't have belonged to the human who owned it answered his pathetic attempt to stop his brother's pain.

"Stop? Now why would I do that when Deannie here is having so much fun." Their captor asked, his voice cruel and playful at the same time, "Deannie you don't want this to stop do you?" he quizzed the now silent Winchester.

Dean glared at his captor and if looks could kill the man in front of him would be six feet under already. However his captor didn't seem to think that Dean's lack of response was amusing and he backhanded Dean across the face. Hard. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was heard as Dean's head whipped to the side with so much force he swore he had whiplash. Stars danced in front of his eyes and black coated the edge of his vision. He wanted to pass out right then and there, escape this too real nightmare, but he knew he couldn't. If he passed out his captor would get bored very quickly and would move onto Sam. He couldn't, wouldn't, let that happen. Panting to stay conscious Dean shook his head both to stay awake and to give his captor an answer.

"See Sammy. I told you Deannie didn't want to stop the fun." The man sneered at the youngest Winchester, "Don't interrupt again. Now where were we?" he asked Dean in a singsong voice, "Oh that's right." He smiled and turned his back on Sam again so he was fully facing the older hunter again.

Sam stared at his blood, sweat and dirt covered semi-conscious brother and wondered how much more the invincible Dean Winchester could take of this torture. Because this was torture, there was no other word for what this man was doing to his brother. Sam shuddered as their captor put the knife he had been using back over the candles flame. And Sam knew that he wasn't heating the blade for sterilization purposes. Oh no, the blade was being heated so that it would cause maximum pain when it touched Dean's already scarred flesh again.

The youngest Winchester tried to tear his eyes away from what was happening in front of him but no matter where he looked he could see what was happening to his brother. Mirrors covered the walls of the room they were in and no matter where he looked he could see Dean and that freak. The only part of the room that wasn't covered in mirrors was the wall he was currently chained to. Even the only door in the room had a mirror over it. He would have closed his eyes but he didn't. He had caused this so he was going to have to watch it. See what his stupidity had done.

"That looks just about right doesn't it now Deannie?" their capture asked the older Winchester showing him the now orange glowing blade, "You know after we're finished with this little part, we could always move to something even more fun if you wanted to. All you have to do is ask."

So many smart witted comebacks to that statement ran through Dean's mind but he didn't voice any of them. Over the last few days he had learnt that was a bad idea. Every time he shot his mouth off it made his captor angry and when his captor was angry he wasn't all lollipops and candy cains. He got mean, and when this guy was mean you didn't want to be anywhere near him. He had six broken fingers to prove his point. How the hell hadn't he seen what kind of a freak this guy was until it was too late?

With the obvious lack of enthusiasm from his play toy, the boy's captor hissed and lowered the glowing blade onto Dean's skin where the shoulder and the neck met. The young hunter cried out in pain and tried to jerk away as the blade was dragged through his flesh with a deliberate slowness that made him wish he was dead. He could feel blood running from the deep cut down his naked chest and he could smell his flesh burning. The smell made him want to puke but he knew he couldn't do that so he forced the non-existent contents of his stomach back down. Even the Benders hadn't been this mean and they were brutal.

Dean was sure that pretty soon he wouldn't have the strength to scream anymore. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen when that eventually occurred. His captor liked it when he screamed and if he wasn't screaming then he would make someone else scream, the only other person available being Sam. So Dean screamed, he screamed for this sick fuck who had the blade of the knife securely positioned deep in his flesh content to wait until the metal cooled down.

Sam watched and listened in horror. The ever present lump in his throat almost choking him as tears slid unbidden down his dirty cheeks. Dean looked so defeated. This guy was breaking his brothers will, of that Sam was sure. If they ever got out of this he wondered if Dean would be the same Dean he had been before or if this guys 'games' as he liked to call them, or if they would warp his brother forever.

The younger hunter looked at his brother as his screams died down to whimpering as the blade was removed and placed on the small table to the side of the room. Dean hung his head, his chin on his chest and Sam wondered if someone upstairs was actually nice enough to have let his brother lose consciousness.

"Still with me Deannie?" their captor asked holding Dean's chin firmly in his hand and lifting the hunters head up. Dean's eyes were half closed in exhaustion, pain and defeat. He had no way to get out of this and he was sure if Sam had he would have let him know earlier.

Dean's head whipped back as he was punched savagely across the face again.

"Answer me when I ask you things!" their captor roared in anger. Damn it Dean was screwed if he answered and screwed if he didn't. When Dean gave a meager nod their captor sighed, "You know what boys? I think it's time for a little break what do you say?" he asked them but obviously not expecting an answer.

Humming some idiotic tune to himself that sounded a lot like something a carnival would play, the evil man untied Dean from his position against the wall and wrapped what looked like an extension cord around his neck. Fixing Dean so that he was standing on his very tippy toes, he made it so that if Dean moved even an inch the cord would choke him. Dean Winchester would get no sleep tonight.

"Good night boys." He said in his singsong voice as he exited the room flicking off the light and plunging them into darkness, "I'll be back soon."

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Well that was my first chapter. All nice and doomy gloomy lol. I know on my profile it said that I would post this on Wed 14th, and I have. Because I live in Australia we're a day ahead so Happy Valentines Day for whenever yours is! And please please please review. I've been seriously nervous about posting this one and as I have the story pretty much written, more reviews will make for faster updates. Thanks. 

Mishka xXx


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Well, first of all; HOLY FREAKIN CRAP THANK YOU!! Man did it make posting this worth it when I woke up to that many reviews and again when I got back from school. Seriously guys thank you! I'm still giddy lol. I would also like to thank the people who are reading this even if you didn't review. Knowing that people out there like what I'm putting up, well like I said, it makes it worth it. Getting reviews is just like the icing on the cake! And dang coz now I want cake. Anyhoo, the most common response I got was 'poor Dean' lol. All I can say is that things are going to get worse, a lot worse before they get better. But yeah, I was so thrilled with the wicked response I got from Chapter One that I decided to post Chapter Two the next day, probably will be a one time thing unless you guys can knock me off my seat! lol

**A/N2: **If the brothers seem a bit out of character in this chapter, especially Dean, my only excuse is that they are only human and humans can only take so much. The mind is a fragile thing and after what they have been through so far I am allowing some cracks to show. Especially on Dean's part. Besides, I'm just sick in the head and I like to see the boy beg. Ha, that rhymed. So on with the chapter!

**WARNINGS: **Still torture...

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**_Chapter Two_**

"Dean?" Sam asked his older brother as soon as the door closed. The older hunter had had no sleep for the past 24 hours at least and Sam was worried that in his current weakened state he was going to fall asleep on his feet and choke himself to death. When he didn't get an answer he spoke again, a little louder this time, "Dean? You okay there?" he knew it was a stupid question, his brother was obviously not okay, who the hell could be okay after what that sick fuck had put him through?

Dean lifted his eyes to look at his brother. Sam stood against the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles keeping him there securely. His throat sore from the constant screaming, Dean nodded his head slightly and tried to keep his tired mind focused on keeping himself upright. He would do no good to Sam if he fell asleep on his feet, the cord which was fashioned like a noose and hung through one of the many rings from the roof and would kill him.

"So, umm, I was thinking that after we get out of here we could maybe have a little shore leave. What you say?" Sam asked trying to keep his brother awake, "Dean!" he yelped loudly when the older brother teetered forward on his toes and the noose around his neck tightened causing his eyes to snap wide and him to fight to get his balance back.

This wasn't good. They had to get out of there and they had to get out now. Then again even if Sam somehow figured out how to get out of there, there was still the problem of Dean. Sam didn't even think that the older brother would be able to support his own weight if he were to be let free and he was worried that Dean would start going into shock soon if they didn't get the hell out of there.

The older Winchester didn't reply to Sam's question. This was shit. Shit fucking shit shit! How the hell were they gonna get out of there?! Dean mentally cursed his predicament. He wished he could find away to Sam out of there, because in all truth he didn't think he was going to make it out of this shithole alive.

The brothers had lost all sense of time. It was probably only a few hours that Dean teetered on the tips of his toes while Sam talked encouragingly to try and help Dean in the only way he could at the moment, but it felt like days, weeks even to the boys.

Dean shuddered involuntarily when he heard the door creak open and tear him from the trance he had put himself in to escape the pain he was suffering. The chirpy face of their captor entered his line of vision, a happy smile on his face and his eyes glowing with malice.

"Well Deannie I must admit I'm impressed your still hanging in there." He said and laughed at his own joke, "I was thinking that if you're interested we could have even more fun than yesterday. That is of course unless you want to trade places with Sammy. I'm sure you could use a rest and little Sammy over there looks sad that he's being left out of our fun. What do you say?" he asked, his voice all to chipper to belong to this psycho.

Dean's bloodshot eyes widened at the question and he shook his head violently in the negative. No no no he couldn't let that freak get his hands on Sam. He wouldn't.

'It's Sam." the youngest Winchester spat from behind his captor.

Turning around ice cold eyes met with Sam's as the man asked, "What was that?" his tone now not chirpy and fun filled but cold and hard enough to cut diamonds.

"I said it's Sam. Only Dean's aloud to call me Sammy." Sam said keeping defiant eye contact with his captor. He had to get him away from Dean. He was sure his older brother couldn't take much more. The bruises, bloody cuts (some of which were starting to look infected), broken bones and burn marks covering his brother's body was testament to that.

"Is that true?" the man asked in an eerily calm tone. He turned back to Dean and smiled apologetically at the older brother before he kicked Dean's feet out from under him causing the older hunter to stumble forward and the makeshift noose to strangle him.

Dean panicked and tried to get his balance back, he really did, but nothing he did would make it return and his frantic movements only caused him to get weaker faster. His chest heaving in mock breathing Dean stopped his struggle and let himself hang limp, the cord cutting into his neck ruthlessly. On the edge of his hearing he could hear Sam pleading with their captor to let him down and screaming he was sorry. White spots were dancing in front of his eyes and his hands and feet were tingling, the feeling was unnerving to say the least. _This is it. I'm so sorry Sammy. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. Please forgive me._

Just as he was about to let it all go, forget everything and enter the blissful dark that was calling him, he hit the ground ungracefully with a thud that sounded distant to him. The cord was unwrapped from his throat and without even thinking his body sucked in huge shuddering breaths into his air starved lungs. Somewhere through the haze of his mind he could hear Sam saying comforting things like _'its okay Dean', 'that's it just breathe, breathe Dean' _and _'you're going to be okay'_. When the sputtering coughs subsided he risked opening his eyes.

Sam was right where he had seen him last, tied to the wall except he was pale and his eyes held fear. His wrists were bleeding, that was for sure judging by the blood running down his hands from obviously pulling so hard against his bonds to get to his brother.

"Deannie has anyone every told you that your brother is a spoilt little brat? That boy needs to learn some manners and respect his elders don't you think?" their captor asked a once again chipper look on his ugly face.

Dean didn't answer, merely drew his legs up to his chest and averted his gaze from the monster in front of him. Not answering earned him a harsh kick against his ribs and he heard the cracking of the bone before he felt it. The white hot pain came after and he cried out as his captor landed kick after kick into his side while laughing the entire time. Tense Dean lay there waiting for another blow that didn't come. Instead he saw their captor fishing around in his suitcase.

"You know what you just gave me a wonderful idea Deannie. I have a new game we can play." Standing up he pulled a hammer and a chisel from his bag and smiled at Dean, "Did you know that the human body has a twelve ribs on each side? That makes a total of twenty four seeing as you don't look like you could count if you tried Deannie. I'm guessing that since we've started I've broken around four of them. Lets see if we can fix that huh?" he bent down over Dean who was shaking his head with a pleading 'no' on his lips.

His silent pleases went unheard as the man placed the chisel against one of the ribs on his right side, taking time to angle it just right and then hit the end of the chisel hard with the hammer making a loud cracking noise and Dean scream.

Sam bit back the scream for his brother he wanted to let go. This was this sick fucks game, he liked to hurt Dean and judging by the bulge in the front of his pants he was getting off on it too. Another crack rang out through the room followed by another hoarse scream from Dean. Looking into the mirror he could see Dean and that monster hovering over him breaking his ribs slowly. He could see the bruises and the red crisscrossed welts on his brother's back from the whipping he had received earlier. Sam still couldn't get the cracking sound of the whip, his brother's screams muffled by the ball gag that had been shoved hard into his mouth, out of his head.

That little fun 'game' had happened on their first day in this oh so lovely room. Dean had been silent at first but then with some choice words from their captor had screamed like there was no tomorrow. The threats the man had made against Sam had been what had first broken Dean. Of that he was sure. Because he knew that whip would have hurt like a bitch, but until their captor had raised the whip with the intent to hit Sam, Dean hadn't made a peep. Merely grit his teeth and taken it. After that Dean hadn't stopped screaming, giving the satisfaction to their sadistic captor to keep him away from Sam.

The young hunter was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice the screams had stopped and that their captor was now prepping something new. Looking down to the floor Sam saw that his bother was huddled into a small ball, eyes glazed over with pain and unshed tears, trying to pant but not having much luck.

"Please you don't have to do this. I swear if you let us go we won't tell anyone." Sam pleased for the thousandth time when he saw what their captor was now holding onto. In the man's hand was an extension cord. It had been cut in half and the end that he wasn't holing had the wires exposed and frazzled. Sam gulped, he didn't think that was for whipping. _Oh god please no not that. He can't get electrocuted again, his heart won't be able to take it._

Apparently Dean thought the same way because when he saw the cord he whimpered and tried to move his abused body back away from their captor. Unfortunately for Dean it only succeeded in making every injury on his body let itself be known. Face scrunched with pain and fear, Dean looked his captor in the eyes directly for the first real time since that defiant act had been beaten out of him.

"Please." He whispered barely loud enough to be heard. It was a plea and something that he hoped his captor would listen to. He could stand almost anything but not that. Not again. He didn't want to die and after the Raw Head incident he had linked electricity with death and it scared the hell out of him. If it happened again he just knew he wouldn't survive it, and if he didn't then where the hell would that leave Sam? He would be even more useless to Sam that he already was now.

Their captor paused in his movements towards Dean. Shocked by the first word he had heard out of the beaten man laying at his feet in well over a day and a half. He had made sure that Dean would not back talk him and seeing as that seemed to be the only thing the Winchester was capable of he had made sure he wouldn't talk. But now his captive, the ever strong one, lay at his feet whimpering and begging for mercy. It made a sadistic smile spread across his face. Dean was afraid and he could practically smell his fear.

"What's wrong Deannie? Afraid of a little extension cord. Don't worry. It won't hurt. Much." He smirked and leaned down in front of Dean who whimpered and let out another broken 'please' while trying to move backwards again.

Sam could see his brother's fear clear as day and he couldn't stand it. He knew that Dean had only let himself scream while being tortured so that it would keep their captor happy and away from him. But bow he was scared, actually terrified if the look in his eyes told Sam anything, and the youngest Winchester he couldn't stand it. He couldn't bear to see that fear in his once fearless brother. His brother who lay broken and bleeding, at some psychos feet, utterly defeated. He couldn't let that continue.

"Please. Do it to me. Not him, h-he can't take that. Please anything but that." Sam pleaded as their captor lowered the cord to the deep cut on Dean's shoulder that he had made earlier with the heated knife. He paused, the cord an inch from the cauterized wound. _I can't take it. I can't see him go through that again._

"Really Sammy. You would take this upon yourself for your brother? Then again it makes sense. Deannie here has been through a lot to keep you safe," he spat the word out, "Do you wish to make his efforts for you to have been made in vain?" he asked staring Sam directly in the eyes.

"Yeah. I would do this for him." Sam said, his tone never wavering in its sincerity._ I would do anything for him._ The young hunter took a quick look at his brother to see him shaking his head at him, a pleading look in his eyes. _God the things he would do for me._ Sam knew his brother would face his greatest fears for him. He had shown that by getting on that plane that they knew was going to crash. And Sam knew that his brother would die for him, but hell if he was going to let that big lug's hero complex come out now where Sam knew this was one of Dean's great fears. Even if it was hidden so well beneath his layers of bravado.

Their captor shrugged and moved over to Sam, "I was getting a little bored of Deannie's screams anyway. Besides, nothing better than fresh meat." He smirked and lowered the wires onto Sam's chest making the younger Winchester cry out in pain and buck against his restraints trying to get away from the searing pain the electricity caused.

The pain stopped as quickly as it had come and Sam sagged down the wall in exhaustion. His mouth tasted like copper and he realized he must have bitten his tongue in his body's desperate attempt to escape the pain. He let his pain filled eyes search out Dean's and saw the older mans eyes tear filled. Before he had a chance to think the searing pain was back. It was burning and freezing at the same time as it spread mercilessly through his entire body. _God, and Dean had gone through 100, 000 vaults of this. Jesus._

This brutal torture went on for around ten minutes before Sam's mind short circuited and he passed out into blissful oblivion.

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Ok, well that's that! Poor Sam but I just needed him out of the way so I could inflict some real pain onto Dean..umm yeah :P A few people mentioned wanting to know about my villain and the hunt the boys are on, I'll just say that you will find out, it's just a little slow in the start to unravel. As always more reviews make for faster updates ;)

Mishka xXx


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **WoW! Man thank you guys so much for the awsome response to this. I'm seriously flattered and I really appreciate all your reviews. If you're just reading this, thank you too for taking the time.

**A/N2: **Ok guys, this chapter has an M rating on it for reasons stated in the warnings. This was the first thing that I have ever written like this and without trying to sound cocky I'm very proud about how it turned out. If this kind of thing freaks you out feel free to skip this chapter and pick the story back up in the next update, I wrote it so it will still make sense. And yes, I know I'm sick in the head for writing this but I swear there's some kind of chemical imbalance in there so I'm blaming that! The next chapter will go back down in rating. Also, I'm prepared to lose readers on this one even if it makes me cry. What happens in this chapter will impact the story but not take over. Please review and let me know what you thought about this. ::Runs and hides under the sheets::

**WARNINGS: **Guess you could call it torture but of a different kind. This chapter includes non-con, aka rape. It's not as graphic as some things I've read but not as subtle either so just be warned.

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__Chapter Three_**

Dean watched his brother endure this cruel act knowing full well that it hurt like a bitch. He thanked who ever was out there that they let his little brother pass out. He had tried to get the man to stop but his battered body ignored his minds orders. He had never felt more helpless and pathetic in his life and it was not a feeling that he wanted to get to know anymore interment. He couldn't even stop this freak from hurting his little brother. Sam, the one thing in his life that he took pride in looking after. Except for his car.

Tears ran down Dean's face unbidden. This was his fault. Sam had gotten hurt because he wasn't brave enough to stand up to their captor. Because he was afraid of those wires and the electricity that coursed through them more than the Grim Reaper himself. What kind of a big brother was he that he couldn't even stay strong for his little brother. For Sam. Sammy the one person he had dedicated his entire life to.

Their captor stood up, wires in hand and looked down at the youngest Winchester, a look of disappointment on his face. He clicked his tongue and looked into Dean's tear filled eyes, "You know what Deannie? Little Sammy there is nowhere as much fun as you are. I mean sure he screamed but I like your screams better." He paused and a slow malicious smile spread across his face, "Still I think I've almost broken you. How about we finish up here? I have people coming over for dinner and I can't stay down here with you beautiful boys forever." The man said as he put the extension cord away.

Fear gripped Dean's heart. This sick fuck was going to kill him and there was nothing he could do. He was as weak as a kitten having been beaten, starved, dehydrated and sleep deprived for days. There would be no way he could take out his captor in his current condition. The man was just too big and too strong.

Panic pulled its lacy tendrils around him when his captor brutally shoved him face forward against the ground and tore his boxer shorts off him. They were the only piece of security and clothing he had been allowed to keep during this whole ordeal and now they were gone he felt truly alone.

The grim realization of why they had been taken off him smacked him in the face with the force of a sledgehammer when he felt the weight of his captor press up against him. His eyes opened wide with shock and fear. Dean tried to escape his captor with what little strength he had left, but his efforts were quickly subdued when his captor pulled his right arm hard behind his back and gave it a strong tug, dislocating his shoulder at the same time he entered Dean with one hard thrust.

The hunter let out an anguished cry of pain. He literally stopped breathing because the pain was so great it froze his lungs inside his broken ribs and was sure his heart skipped more than a few beats. He couldn't fight back, his body pinned under his captor's heavy weight and not responding to his panicking minds desperate screams of _'No, no, no! Not this! Oh god anything but this! Please no!"_

It felt like he was being ripped apart, torn in half with each thrust sending out tangents of pain through his entire body as it jarred all of his injuries. It felt like liquid fire coating his nerve endings and he whimpered not being able to find the strength or the breath to give voice to his inner screams. In fact breathing was becoming too hard to do at all and all he could manage were quick gasps of air when he could. The ground was cold and hard beneath him and he found himself wishing that he was the ground, that he could just melt into the floor to escape his torture.

Dean looked over at his brother, the youngest Winchester was starting to stir and Dean prayed to whoever was up there that Sam wouldn't wake up until their captor had finished with him. He didn't want his little brother to see what was happening to him, knowing that the look in his eyes if he did would shatter Dean's resolve and soul into a thousand pieces.

God must have looked the other way however because Sam opened his eyes, the brown orbs going wide with shock when he saw what was happening to his brother and his breath catching in his throat. Dean suffered a few more minutes of that torture, keeping his head down and eyes firmly away from Sam's, before his captor came and pulled out, half collapsing over Dean's back panting.

The older Winchester didn't notice or care however. He had had enough. He couldn't take it anymore, it was too much and now knowing that his baby brother had seen him suffer such a humiliating and vile act, and had effectively locked himself deep down in the dark recesses of his mind.

Sam watched their captor regain his composure, stand up and smile down at Dean like he was a priceless diamond. His naked body covered with a film of sweet, still slightly panting. He leant down to Dean and put his face close to the hunter's ear, "Thanks for the ride Deannie. I'll see you soon." He whispered, kissed Dean's lips softly and walked out of the room leaving the brothers once again alone.

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Ok, so that's what I've been so nervous about posting. Please let me know if you liked it or thought it didn't mix with the story or just your general thoughts on it. The more reviews I get, the quicker I will update. Now, off to the drive-in for me:D 

Mishka xXx


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **WoW! You guys totally rock! I had a freakin' HUGE response for the last chapter. It was mixed of course but I'm pleased to say that the majority of it was positive. THANK YOU guys so much for the reviews! They were all really appreciated! Seriously, I almost died of shock lol. Please keep them coming!

**A/N2: **I had a few people say that they think the story should now go up to an M rating so I'm going to up the rating next chapter. This is just a warning to let you guys know that it will be seen on an 'M' rating from Chapter Five on. Even though the rest of the story will me more 'tame' than the last chapter. So you will need to set your browser to 'All Ratings' if you wish to see this again. People on Story Alert will be fine. Sorry for any inconvenience.

**A/N3:** This is sort of a bridge chapter but things will pick up in the next post. I really have to slow down or I'll run out of chapters and I'm still working on the Epilogue lol! I actually had a reviewer pick what was going to happen next; how the boys were going to get out because yes they are! We are ending the torture in the next chapter, well the physical anyway. The mental torture, well that was too fun to let go for now.

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_Chapter Four_

The younger hunter didn't know what to say to his brother, knowing that whatever he said would in no way help Dean. He settled to see if Dean was with him, not liking that the older man hadn't made eye contact with him since he had awoken to the sight of that monster raping his brother. Oh god! Rape! Dean, his older brother, his protector, his flesh and blood had just been brutally raped in front of him!

"Dean?" he asked quietly hating that his voice broke on the small word that meant so much to him. Dean didn't reply however, not that Sam had really expected him to. The older hunter merely pulled his legs up to his chest to try and make himself into a small ball. Sam wondered how it was that a man of Dean's size could make himself look so small and childlike. Dean wasn't ever supposed to look like that, so small and frightened, his body shaking and his breath coming out in quick small gasps. He was Dean fucking Winchester for god sakes! He was the invincible overprotective older brother that took shit from no one.

Sam let his tears silently slide down his cheeks as he watched his brother struggle to breathe. Each one of his tears that spilt for his brother made his already intense hatred for their captor grow. He vowed silently under his breath that he would get them out of this alive and that he would kill their captor with his bare hands. His views on not killing a human being thrown out the window. That man was no human, he was a monster.

The Winchester brothers stayed like that for ages. They had no way to tell the time as no light was let into the room. Sam sat leaning against the wall waiting until their captor came back in. While he waited for the inevitable he kept his eyes on Dean, the older hunters breathing had still not evened out and his body still shaking. He realized that his brother was probably going into shock and the worry of that was like a spike through Sam's heart. Dean's eyes were opened but clearly unfocused. Sam had called to him a few times before he realized the there was 'no one home'. It was a defensive technique that Sam had seen Dean used once or twice in his life when the pain had gotten so bad that the older brother had had to 'escape' his body. He wondered where his brother 'went' in times like this and hoped that it was someplace he felt happy and safe.

It must have been morning when their captor came back into the room because he was smiling smugly and eating a piece of fried bacon. The smell carried through the room and made Sam's stomach grumble with hunger. He couldn't even remember when was the last time he had eaten anything.

Smiling happily at the involuntary response from the youngest Winchester the man finished his piece of bacon and said, "I make the best bacon and eggs for breakfast. You should try it sometime Sammy." He paused and looked down at Dean who was still curled into himself, his breath still coming in short and quick gasps, "How long had he been like this?" he asked Sam.

Sam shocked at the serious tone of their captor who normally sported a sardonic tone, took a moment to answer, "Since you left him you sick fuck!" he spat out.

The man nodded, a pensive look on his face and then left the room coming back a few minutes later with a first aid kit and a bottle of water. At Sam's wide eyed stare he clarified, "I don't want Deannie to die just yet. Last night was too much fun and I want to be able to have that fun again for awhile yet."

"Keep the fuck away from my brother." Sam seethed when the man reached out to roll Dean onto his back. Just the prospect of that man laying even one hand on his hurt brother made his blood boil.

"Now now Sammy. If I don't clean him up a little Deannie will be dead by tomorrow and I know you don't want that to happen. Besides, I'm sure you enjoyed last nights little show and wouldn't mind seeing it again." He snickered rolling Dean onto his back.

"You sick fuck! What the hell makes you think that I would enjoy seeing my brother rapped?!" Sam screamed only to be ignored by the man.

Dean didn't move an inch, didn't even flinch at the contact or the sound of his captors voice promising more fun later that night. This seemed to please their captor, "I finally broke him. I must admit this one was one of my harder ones to crack. Weren't you Deannie? I'm going to miss that fire he had, might even see if I can get him back after this." He muttered while cleaning the worst of Dean's wounds.

Sam felt sick to his stomach. This sick fuck was cleaning his brother up just so he could stay alive to endure more of this torture! Sam looked up when he heard his brother making choking sounds. Their captor had Dean sitting up with his back against his chest and was slowly trying to couch Dean into drinking some of the water he had brought in.

The man had to hold Dean's mouth shut when he poured some water into it so that it wouldn't come back out when his swallowing reflex failed to work. He managed to get a little water into Dean but apparently not as much as he would have liked because he dropped Dean back onto the floor and kicked him in the side, all niceties gone once again.

The youngest Winchester closed his eyes and prayed with everything he had to whoever was listening that they would get them the hell out of this.

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In the middle of Lawrence Kansas Missouri Moseley dropped her cup of coffee to the floor in the middle of her kitchen as a sharp pain spiked in her mind. The pain just wasn't any pain however, it was an anguished cry from help and she would know that psychic signature anywhere. That cry had come from the young Sam Winchester.

Knowing she couldn't call the police on this one she did the only thing that she could do. She rushed into her lounge room, picked up her phone and called John Winchester.

When she hanged up the phone her worry was lessened by knowing that the boy's father would get to them before nightfall. She only hoped he wouldn't be to late, "Hang on boys. Your Daddy's coming." Missouri whispered.

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Thanks for reading and please please please review and let me know what you think! Did you expect that to happen? I did say this was set in Season One so John is still alive and I missed him so I had to bring him back. It's also my first time writing Missouri. Next chapter will get the plot really rolling.. 

Mishka xXx


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Man you guys are seriously making it worth posting this story. I was really close to not posting this at all, as in the whole story, but now I'm so glad I have :) You can thank Kate Cyrus for that. I wouldn't have had the nerve to post without her help. Again, THANK YOU so much! I love and welcome all feedback with open arms. So in return I'm posting this one now instead of later tonight when I had originally planed to put it up.

**A/N2: **This will be the last chapter containing torture so YaY! Sunshine, lollie pops and candy cains will insue! Ha! As if! I'm to sick and twisted to let that happen. But as for the torture, yes this will be the last chapter. Except for maybe flashbacks.

**WARINGS: **Torture, not really as bad as the others.

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_Chapter Five_

Five hours later and Dean was still in his catatonic state. Even though their captor had been bragging about being able to break Dean he didn't seem all that pleased when the hunter wouldn't scream for him anymore or take any notice of the pain that he was inflicting on him.

Nail gun in hand the man loomed ominously over Sam and glared at Dean, having propped the older brother so he was sitting against the wall and was looking straight at his bother, "Come on Deannie. I know that you don't want me to take this here nail gun and hurt your brother with it do you?" he asked. When Dean didn't react, only kept staring with his blank eyes and taking his still short quick gasping breaths, their captor screamed out in frustration and shot three nails into Sam's left thigh.

Sam winced but didn't cry out. _'I'll make you proud Dean.'_ Somehow he had convince himself that if he kept quiet through the torture that was now being inflicted on him to get a reaction out of Dean, then he would make his brother proud and then wake up. And at the very least he could try and repay his brother and keep that freak away from him.

"Oh what you wanna play too Sammy?" his captor shrieked, clearly furious at the lack of response he was getting from his favourite captive, "Fine we'll play!" he raised his hand and slapped Sam across the face so hard Sam swore felt one of his teeth come loose.

Sam felt his heart sink. Not from the hit but from the fact that Dean didn't even bat an eye at it. The Dean Winchester he knew would have been across that room so fast if you hurt his little brother it would have made your head spin. But this Dean, this Dean seemed empty and nonexistent. Almost like he was a shell.

Rising up the man had a look of resolve and happiness on his face as if he had just struck oil,  
"Deannie." He said drawing the word out in a sing song voice, "Deannie, how about we have more fun. Ju-"

"No! Don't you fucking touch him!" Sam screamed cutting off his captor and earning another hit across the face that had him seeing stars.

"Just you and me Deannie." He said walking over to Dean and crouching in front of him. Dean just stared back, his eyes as blank as ever. Their captor raised his hand to backhand Dean across the face when the only door in the room was kicked open sending shards of glass everywhere and pausing the man in his attack.

In through the ruble created by the door and broken mirror walked John Winchester, guns raised and looking absolutely furious, "Get. The. Hell. Away. From. My. Boys." He spat shooting daggers with his eyes at his boy's captor.

Sam could have died from relief right then and there had it not been that he thought he had finally lost it. Dehydration probably setting in he figured. But when he saw his captor freeze and look so scared that he looked as if he was going to shit himself he knew that his father was there. Someone must have been listening to his prayers.

The man froze. How the hell had this guy found him? Maybe he had picked the wrong tourists to play his 'games' with. Looking into the eyes of his captive's father he knew he was going to die. He wouldn't be getting any older than today and in that knowledge came to him the thought that if he was going down he was going to take at least one of these boys with him. Grabbing one of his many knifes from his bag he made to slash the older boy's throat.

The youngest Winchester tried to scream a warning out to his father of his captor's knife but before the word could even leave his mouth and before their captor had even raised the knife, the man had a bullet right between the eyes.

The room was deadly quiet for a few seconds and Sam's only thoughts were _'It's over. Thank god it's over!'_ Before John broke the silence saying a quick, "Boys!" and rushing to Sam's side to pick the locks that had kept him chained to the wall for the last however many days.

Dean seemed to know his Dad was there and that he was safe because as soon as the older hunter's voice was heard his eyes slipped closed and he slumped to his side and onto the ground.

"Sammy what the hell? Are you okay?" John asked picking the second last lock and then turned around at Sam's desperate cry of 'Dean!' to see his oldest son now on his side.

"Dad get Dean, he's hurt worse." Sam said his tone desperate. He didn't think he could see the rise and fall of Dean's chest anymore and that thought alone made his heart skip a beat.

John nodded handing Sam the lock pick to finish his last two remaining shackles as he rushed to Dean's side. Seeing how beaten Dean was made John wish he hadn't shot that bastard in the head so he could have inflicted some _real_ pain to that monster. A bullet between the eyes was too good for him. Checking Dean's vitals John's heart jumped into his throat. Dean was in shock and he had to get him to a hospital now or he was going to die, "Sam hurry up with that we have to get him out of here. He needs a hospital." He growled at his youngest who was working on his last shackle. John took off his jacket and covered as much of his naked son as he could with it.

Hearing the underlying worry in his father's voice made Sam work even faster on the lock. Dean had to be really bad for his Dad to sound that worried and say he needed a hospital. John normally did everything he could to keep the hell away from hospitals. The lock clicked open in record time and Sam jumped up onto his feet only to be hit with a wave of vertigo, and his legs buckling at the knees.

On his hands and knees Sam realized he was probably weak from starvation among other things but knowing he needed to get up and help his father with Dean, so he pushed himself up. Sam took one last hate filled look at his now dead captor and hoped the bastard burned in hell.

"Sorry son this is going to hurt." John whispered in Dean's ear as he put his arms under his son and lifted him into the bridal carry, knowing that it would be the less damaging for Dean. Nodding at Sam, John made his way out of the destroyed door and into the main room of the suburban house that his son's had been kept in, "Sam keys are in my pocket." John said turning to his right so Sam could extract the keys to his truck.

Sam quickly took the keys and opened the front door to the house only to be blinded by the bright sunlight of the outside world. Throwing his hand up to shield his eyes from the aggressive light the young hunter stumbled outside ignoring the pain of his body, running on pure adrenaline and spotted his father's truck half parked on the front lawn of the house. He quickly ran to the black pickup and unlocked the door opening it up wide and hopping into the middle seat so he could help his father hoist Dean into front seat. He didn't even care if anyone saw them. And what a sight that would have made.

When they were all in the truck, John tore out of the street and down the road while Sam kept his arm around his brother holding him upright and steady, hoping that he wasn't hurting the unconscious hunter. Breaking all possible speed limits John raced towards the hospital.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked Sam, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the road.

"I'm not sure. Since last night I think. I woke up and," Sam paused to take in a shuddering breath and try to recompose himself, "Oh god Dad. H-he raped Dean. I couldn't stop it." Sam choked out, tears filling his eyes.

John Winchester actually saw red. He gripped his steering wheel tightly in his hand and clenched his jaw so tight that it hurt. _'Hospital John. Get them to the hospital. Your boys need you. Hospital.'_ John thought to himself like a mantra to stop himself from turning the truck around going back to the house and beating that bastard to a pulp.

His mantra was suddenly interrupted by his son's broken yell of, "Fuck! Dad he's not breathing."

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MWHAHAHAHAHA!! A cliffy there for you::grins evilly:: The more reviews I get the sooner I'll post again ;) Thanks for reading. 

Mishka xXx


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Again thank you guys so much for the wonderful reviews! You're the best:) This chapter is mostly from John's perspective. I hope I did okay with it because the only other time that I've written John was in my fic 'To quell the pain' and that was mostly from Dean's pov.

A lot of people have been asking about how the boys got into that spot of trouble. This will be addressed soon! I kind of wrote this as one of those stories that has the plot slowly un-ravel. Thank you guys so much for reading and review and sticking with me so far. I really appreciate it! Now on with the story...

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_Chapter Six_

John tore his eyes off the road in front of him to see his youngest son wide eyes and shaking his brother trying to get him to breathe again.

'We're almost there." John said loudly when he saw the hospital's bright sign up the road.

The oldest Winchester pulled up into the emergency entrance of the hospital, tires screeching to a stop. He was out of the car before it had even rolled back and to the other side. He had to get Dean help or he was going to die.

John felt his chest tighten and hesitated for a second when he saw his sons for the first time in real light and his stomach dropped through the floor. Sam was clutching onto Dean tightly, his eyes wide and panicky and looking so young that John had to swallow the lump that appeared in his throat. Sam himself was in better nick than Dean with a few cuts and bruises and just generally looking tired. Dean however who was slack in his brother's arms looked like death.

Dean's face was impossibly pale under all the sweat, dirt and myriad of cuts and bruises. His dark eyelashes were so dark against his skin that John worried for a moment that he was too late. Not to mention that Dean's full lips had taken on an unnatural blue tinge.

Blinking away the initial shock John pulled open the door and ripped Dean from Sam's arms, yelling at him to follow him as he ran with Dean into the hospital. As soon as he entered there were staff there with a gurney who took Dean from him, put him on a gurney with an oxygen mask over his face and rushed him through the ER doors.

Sam stumbled in after his father his head spinning at all the sudden activity since he had left that sick fuck's house. He felt so cold and empty since John had ripped Dean from his arms and he just wanted to cry. But he wouldn't, now was no time to cry. He had to stay strong for Dean.

John's heart sank while he looked blankly at the doors. How could anyone survive that? It was a miracle he had even found his boys alive. Oh god! Dean was going to- he stopped that thought, filled it full of mental rock salt and burnt it. Dean was strong. He would make it. He had too. John turned to see his youngest standing in the middle of the room looking so still and lost. He made his way over to Sam and placed his hand gently on his shoulder as not to startle him.

The young hunter lifted his gaze to meet John's concerned one.

"Come on son. We have to get you checked out too." John said softly and gently led Sam into the waiting room. He pushed him into one of the hard waiting room chairs and went to the nurse at her front desk. He cleared her throat to get her attention, "Excuse me. My son, he needs to see a doctor."

"If you would just wait over there, I need you to fill out some forms," she handed John a pile of forms, just the normal insurance forms and things. John was about to ask if she knew anything about Dean's condition when she spoke again, "That boy you bought in was your other son?" she asked. When he nodded she smiled in sympathy, "I'll make sure that when we get an update on his condition you'll be the first to know."

John thanked her and returned to Sam, forms clutched tightly in his hand. Sam was sitting, arms leaning on his legs and head hanging towards the ground, "You with me Sammy?" he asked putting a hand on his son's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Sam startled and looked up at his father with tear filled eyes, "Dad." He squeaked. He stood up and threw himself onto the older man in a hug.

The older hunter tensed at the unexpected action but when he regained himself he put his arms around his youngest son's shaking form and held him close. John wondered what that bastard had done to his strong boys to make Sam act like this. To clutch to his father like a five year old again. Emotions raged in John all battling for dominance. The main ones being love and rage. Love for his boys because god knew he loved his boys more than anything on the planet, except Mary. And rage for the man who had done this to them.

They stood like that for awhile, Sam crying onto John's shoulder and John rubbing small circles on Sam's back and muttering comforting words. When Sam had regained most of his composure he let go of his father and slumped back into his chair, completely spent.

They didn't need to say anything. John knew his youngest needed the comfort, the physical contact and Sam knew that John needed to focus on Sam now or he would lose it. So they sat there quietly, each lost in their own thoughts as John filled out the paperwork and Sam battled the urge to succumb to the exhaustion that had been plaguing his system for the last few days.

John finished the forms and handed them back to the nurse at the front desk then returned to Sam. He didn't sit however. He had too much on his mind to be so still so he resorted to pacing back and forth. Seeing his son sitting with his head in his hands and yawning for what must have been the hundredth time since they had sat down John spoke, "I'm going to go get some coffee. You want some?" he asked.

Sam nodded slightly. Want? Damn it he wanted his brother. He wanted his strong, annoying, take no crap from anyone brother sitting with him right now assessing which nurses he thought he had a chance with. But Dean wasn't here, he was behind those god damned doors where Sam couldn't go. They could be doing anything to his brother in there and he wouldn't know they were doing it. Jeez if he had just been more like Dean, maybe pissed off their captor more and gotten him away from Dean none of this would have happened. But then again he knew that was a lie. If their father hadn't have come. Hang on. How did their father know where they were?

As if in time to answer Sam's question John appeared in front of him and handed him a steaming hot cup of coffee. Sam took the coffee and thanked his father. When John was seated next to him once again Sam turned to him to ask how he had known where to find them and how he knew they were in trouble. Before he could get the question out however a nurse was standing in front of them.

"Sam can see the doctor now. If you'll just follow me to exam room two we'll get you all sorted out." She said sweetly.

"Do you have any news on my brother?" Sam asked hopefully as he stood with some aid from his father.

"Sorry Hun, none yet. But when we do you two will be the first to know." She said and showed them the exam room.

Sam laid down on the examining table, not having the strength to sit up any longer. Damn he was just so tired. He had just closed his eyes, the feeling of safety knowing that his father was with him and wouldn't let anything happen to him making him even sleepier, when the doctor walked in.

"Hello Sam. My names Dr Webber." He politely introduced himself and shook Sam and John's hand before he continued with the examination.

It took around forty minutes for the doctor to patch Sam up. In the end Sam had to be admitted overnight and administered with IV fluids from the dehydration he had been suffering.

Pulling up a seat next to his youngest son's hospital bed John sat down. Sam looked up at him, his eyes a little glazed over from the pain killers they had also given him before they had extracted the nails from his thigh.

"Hey sport. How you feeling there?" John asked.

"Floaty." came Sam's matter of fact reply.

John smiled at his son's response. Missouri had been right. Had he been even half an hour later he didn't think he would have been as lucky as he had been in finding his son's. Lucky. Whoever invented that word should be shot. This wasn't luck. Luck would have been his boys being fine, having a mother and a home. Not having his boys beat to hell, one of them in critical condition with the possibility of not even pulling through.

"Dad?" Sam asked, his voice breaking through the haze of John's thoughts.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"Dean's gonna be okay right?" he asked, his voice sounding so young, even to his own ears.

John paused. He didn't have that answer. He wished to god he did but he just didn't. But Sam was looking up at him with such hopeful and trusting eyes that he had to say something, "Yeah Sam. You know Dean. He'll pull through and be back to being his normal annoying self in no time." John said with a small smile and moved Sam's bangs out of his eyes. He hoped to hell that he wasn't lying.

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Thanks for reading and please review. Let me know what you think, loved it? hated it? Until next time.. ;) 

Mishka xXx


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **You guys are seriously the bomb! Don't know what I've been doing to get such a good response but I hope I can keep it up. Thank you so much! Ok, I've taken some liberty with my artistic license in this one. I've been told that the results for HIV tests take around six months to get back. That wouldn't work for my story so in this it only takes the same time as like a normal blood test. Now on with the chapter... _**

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_**Chapter Seven**_

Sam awoke slowly. His mind was groggy and he realized that he must have succumb to his exhaustion and fallen asleep. Raising a heavy hand Sam rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Truth be told he felt a lot better than he had the last time he had been awake. It must have something to do with the pain killers and fluids they were pumping him full of and the peaceful sleep he had had knowing that he was safe because his father was watching over him. Speaking of his father where was he?

Pulling himself into a sitting position on the bed Sam looked around his empty room. There was no light coming in through the window so it must have been night. How the hell long had he slept? And if he had been asleep this long then how much news about his brother had he missed? Wait, Dean!

The young hunter pulled his blanket off him and swung his legs over the bed. He had to get up and find out how Dean was doing. Why the hell had his father let him sleep so long? He was going to give his old man a few choice words for doing that. Just as Sam was about to push himself into a standing position the door to his room opened and in walked John Winchester, coffee in hand.

John's eyes widened at the sight of his youngest trying to get up, "Sam! Sit down before you hurt yourself." He ordered, "Now." He added when Sam hesitated.

"Dean?" Sam asked getting straight to the point.

"I just ran into the nurse. She said that Dean's doctor would be in soon to talk about his condition." John said taking up his seat next to Sam's bed again, "How you feeling?"

"Tired." Sam replied honestly.

"Me too." John said and scrubbed a hand hard over his face in an attempt to wake himself up more. John looked up at Sam. He looked better than he had when John had found them. He had been on the end of his tether with worry over his boys since he had received Missouri's call and the worry hadn't vacated since. He hoped that Dean's doctor would hurry the hell up and tell him how his son is. It had been hours since they had arrived at the hospital. Then again if they hadn't spoken to them yet then that had to be good. Well good in the sense that his oldest wasn't dead. He strongly doubted they would have kept them waiting that long if Dean was dead. So they had to have been working on him this long. Fixing the physical damage.

The psychological damage was going to be harder to fix. Of that John was sure. From what he had pieced together, seeing the room his boys had been held in and the actual condition of his boys themselves, John was sure that it was going to take some time to help his boys get over this. Time he didn't have. He was red hot on the trail of the demon when he had received Missouri's call. He had assured the psychic that his boys would find a way out of there and be fine but as soon as she had told him that if he didn't reach them soon, they would be dead, John had gotten into his truck and driven like a maniac to get to his boys.

John's thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on the door before a small black woman walked in. He presumed that she was Dean's doctor and stood to greet her.

"John Walker." He said as he shook her hand. The alias had been one of Dean's ideas. He remembered when Dean had made the ID's and handed him one with a shit eating grin and a 'There you go Johnny'. It hadn't been a jest at John's drinking but just a joke that his oldest had snickered over every time John had to introduce himself with that alias.

"I'm Dr Simmons. Please Mr Walker have a seat." She said, her face blank and not conveying anything no matter how hard Sam and John looked.

Reluctantly John took his seat next to Sam and looked up at the woman in front of him, "How's Dean?"

"He's stable." She paused and looked at the notes on her clipboard before she continued, "When you bought Dean in he was in shock. He had a collapsed and punctured lung which was why he wasn't breathing." She raised her hand at Sam for quiet so she could finish, "We have inserted a chest tube to expel the air from his pleurae space. That's the space between the lung and the chest wall."

John nodded in understanding having a good grasp on what she was telling him while Sam sat there still looking confused.

Dr Simmons continued on, "Dean's right shoulder was also dislocated, he has multiple broken fingers and ribs, burns to ten percent of his body, not to mention that he is covered in lacerations and bruising. He has a slight fever from a few infected lacerations but we have him on antibiotics and we're monitoring his fever closely." She consulted her clipboard again with what the two Winchesters knew to be Dean's chart and when she spoke again her voice had taken on a softer tone, "There were also some signs of other foul play. I'm afraid your son shows signs of being raped. We ran a kit, which came back negative for any STD's but the effects I'm worried about concerning this aren't physical. Physically he should make a full recover given his age and previous fitness level."

Sam stopped listening to the doctor. He didn't hear how they had to use surgery to repair the internal bleeding that his brother had sustained from the rape because his fury overtakes his normally rational brain. He had hoped that what he had awoken to see in that room was just a hallucination even though his gut told him other wise. The young hunter clenched his jaw shut so tightly it hurt, breathing through his nose in a futile attempt to keep his anger at bay. He wished that his father hadn't shot that sick bastard so he could go back there and beat the guy to death with his bare hands. How dare he do such a vile thing to his older brother?! Oh god Dean. His poor Dean! Sam swung his legs off the bed in an attempt to stand. He had to see his brother. He had to hold him against his chest and let him know that everything was going to be all right.

The young hunter perked up when he heard his father speaking to the doctor.

"Yes Dean was awake briefly but when had to knock him out again. He was in too much pain." She gave as way of an explanation.

"Did he say anything?" Sam asked her wishing that he had been with Dean when he had awoken.

"No he didn't say anything. But as I was telling your father it's possible that he may be suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It a very common thing for people who have been through things like Dean has to experience it. We will have to wait until he is awake and more lucid to properly asses his medical condition."

"Can we see him?" the young hunter asked.

"We're just having him moved into his own room now. You should be able to see him in around forty minutes but not for too long. He needs plenty of time to rest and recover." She said, gave them a small smile and left the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence between father and son until Sam finally broke the silence, "Oh my god, Dean." He said, tears making his eyes hurt. How could someone who was human do something so cruel to another person? It just wasn't right. And how could someone do that to Dean? Of all the people that it could have happened to, Dean deserved that the least. For god's sake Dean had spent his whole killing evil things and saving innocent people.

"I know." John sighed. His heart felt heavy in his chest. His poor boy. His baby boy. Because no mater how old his boys grew they would still always be his children. His children, the two most important people in his life.

A nurse came into Sam's room with his discharge papers around half an hour later. She said that he would be sore for awhile but should be pretty much healed up within the week even if he would have a limp for the next month or so. Sam took the papers and asked her how long it would be until he could see his brother.

Ten minutes later John and Sam were standing shoulder to shoulder out the front of Dean's room. Taking a big breath Sam pushed open the door and walked in.

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Ok, maybe not some of my better work but you will get to see Dean and find out how the boys ended up in that guys house in the next chapter ;) Until then please let me know what you thought of this chapter :) 

Mishka xXx


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Hey guys! Short chapter I know, but they will be getting longer for awhile after this. Thanks a lot for the wicked reviews. Means to the world to me, it really does.

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_**Chapter Eight**_

Sam took a sharp intake of breath when he saw his brother. Dean was lying in his hospital bed and for a second Sam thought that his big brother was dead. The older hunter was so pale that he couldn't be alive, that was until Sam saw the small rise and fall of his chest. Exhaling Sam walked quietly up to his brother, as if making noise would be blasphemy in the quietness of the room.

The young hunter sensed his father behind him as he pulled up a chair and sat next to the side of Dean's bed. He reached out to touch his brother, in need of the physical contact but withdrew his hand no knowing where to put it without hurting the older man.

John stood behind Sam, a reassuring hand on his shoulder and looked at his son. Oh god Dean looked so small, young and vulnerable that John found himself on the verge of tears.

Taking a deep breath to get the bravery he required Sam gently worked his way around the IV in Dean's hand and held it gently, "Dean. You're safe now. Me and Dad are here and we aren't gonna let anything bad happen to you. You'll be okay bro, we'll work through this. You're safe Dean, you're safe." Sam cooed softly hoping his brother could hear his supportive words.

It was easy to tell that Dean had been on the bad end of a fight. He looked terrible and Sam was glad that he was out on some pretty heavy duty painkillers. The skin that Sam could see was pale and where it wasn't pale it was black and blue. There were cuts all over his arms and face and his neck was all bruised and red from when that bastard had hung him. Sam knew there were more wounds across his brother that were covered in bandages and clothes. His older brother's breathing was slow and shallow and to Sam's ears sounded painful. It was the internal injuries that worried him most though. He hoped that when Dean woke up that he would just be okay even if Sam knew it wasn't going to be like that.

Perhaps had he not seen what that bastard was doing to his brother then Dean might have faired better mentally, but it didn't play out that way. Dean was going to be worse off because Sam had seen it happen. Dean had always hated anyone seeing him in a weakened position. Especially Sam or John. And Sam truly believed that Dean knowing that Sam had seen 'it' was what had sent him over the edge.

The nurse came into Dean's room after around fifteen minutes and asked the two men to leave. Sam grudgingly let Dean's hand go and left the room. He was relieved to see that Dean was alive but with that a whole new bunch of worries had appeared. For example, would Dean still want to live when he woke up? He pushed the thought aside. Of course his brother would want to live, he was a Winchester after all.

Sam and John drove back to the house to pick up the Impala and then spent the night at the closest motel to the hospital. Neither spoke, both were in a sort of shocked trance after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours. Sam sat dejected at the room's table and fingered his food they had picked up on the way back in a disinterested way. He had no appetite, his stomach in stressed knots not letting him eat no matter how much he knew he should or how much his father encouraged him.

John looked up at his son from his own half eaten burger, "Sam what the hell happened out there? I thought I trained you boys better than that. How did that psycho get his hands on you?" he asked, his curiosity and anger finally winning out.

The young hunter gulped. He had been hoping to avoid this question longer even though he had known it would come up eventually. Steadying himself against what he knew was going to come Sam took in a deep breath and spoke, "We were working a case. A string of disappearances from the area. We were interrogating him, trying to get a feel for the neighborhood, you know, see if there was anything supernatural behind it. He invited us in and we had some drinks. He must have put something in the drinks because when I woke we were tied up in that room."

"Jesus Sam. You boys should have known better. Dean should have known better, he's been doing this longer than you." John paused regretting his words instantly. It could have happened to him just as easily. But he was just so angry at the moment he had to vent and blame someone even though he knew he should be blaming the sick fuck who had done this. He did blame that bastard and hated him with a hate so pure it scared him.

"Dad!" Sam said shocked and angered that his father would blame this all on Dean like that. It was as much Sam's fault as it was Dean's.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about you boys. I can't lose you. I won't." John said, his tone quiet and eyes down on his half eaten food.

Sam did a double take. Had his father just said he was wrong and apologized? Then again looking into his father's eyes he realized that John had put away his hunting self and was just being a concerned father and dealing with this in the best way he could.

"Get some sleep Sam. You look like death warmed over." John quipped.

"Hey you're not looking to good there yourself. When was the last time you got any sleep?" Sam smirked and raised his eyebrows quizzically to his father.

"You're not calling me old are you son?" his father returned with an amused yet serious grin on his face.

"I'm just saying that as people get older they need more sleep." Sam joked back. It was after all how the Winchester men dealt with things. Right now they would joke with each other so they would laugh in stead of cry, which if they wanted to admit it or not, was what they wanted to do deep down.

"Yeah well you youngins need your rest too." John laughed, stood up and slapped Sam affectionately on the shoulder. He then walked over to the bed closest the door, toed his shoes of and laid down, his eyes closed, "Night Sam."

"Night Dad." Sam replied. He sat at the table for around another long hour, worrying about his brother before his body reminded him that it had been through a hell of his own. Eyes dropping closed Sam yawned and put his head down on his folded arms, to tired to even make it to the bed, and fell asleep.

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Yeah, I know Dean probably should have been on a ventilator but meh, artistic license with this one. I just didn't want it. The last few chapters have been bridge chapters but the story will be picking up again next post. Please review! If you guys can WoW me I'll update again tomorrow ;) Thanks for reading. 

Mishka xXx


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Thank you guys for the reviews as always. I didn't have a chance to reply to them personally as it was either post this chapter or reply to the reviews and I figured that you guys would want the update instead. So again, thank you so much. Also if you're looking for a wicked read filled with comedy and a good dose of angst to boot, check out KateCyrus' story Energies and Ice Cream. Now, let's see how Dean is doing shall we..

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_**Chapter Nine**_

Sam stood waiting impatiently and tapping his foot, with his arms crossed over his muscular chest in the hospitals pharmacy. Dean had spent three long weeks here and today his doctors had finally given him the all clear to go home under the strict rules of plenty of bed rest.

The chest tube had been removed around two weeks earlier and Dean's lung had mended enough to re-inflate itself. He was still having some difficultly breathing but his doctors assured a worried Sam and John that physically he was on the mend. Mentally however, Dean wasn't doing so well.

The young hunter had refused to speak to anyone since waking up. A nod or shake of the head or a shrug of the shoulders was the only response Dean would give to anyone's questions. This muteness from Dean had led to Sam having to give the police a statement for the both of them. He pretty much told them the truth and the doctors backed everything that he said up with their medical reports. He of course left some things out here and there but the police bought his story with no problems.

His doctors kept insisting that Dean see a psychologist but every time they asked they would end up with the same answer. John and Sam refused to let Dean see a shrink. They both knew that Dean disliked them and if he was in his 'right mind' he wouldn't have stepped near one. So out of respect for Dean they kept 'politely' telling the doctors no. Besides, they were Winchesters, they would work this out on their own just like they always had.

Sam was getting anxious as he stood at the pharmacy. All he had to do was pick up the medication that had been prescribed to Dean and then he and his brother were out of there. He had been given pamphlets on what the doctors thought that Dean was suffering from, namely; Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Rape Trauma Syndrome (RTS) and Moderate Clinical Depression. Sam had read the pamphlets so many times that he had them memorized.

John had left three days earlier to go to Missouri's. The psychic had suggested, well more like demanded, that they come to her house to recover. Knowing that Dean would need a stable surrounding the other Winchesters had agreed. Besides, maybe Missouri would be able to help Dean. In a psychic way that is.

Sam paid for the medication when the pharmacist came back and gave him the small plastic pill bottles in a brown paper bag. There was enough in there to last at least the next six months. Paper bag in hand Sam basically ran down the corridor to his brother's room. He was so glad that he would be able to get his brother out of here today. He slowed down just as he reached Dean's door and was careful to open it slowly and make some kind of noise at the same time. Dean had been really jumpy around loud noises and fast movements since he woke up and was lucid enough to notice his surroundings.

Dean was standing in the corner of the room with his back to the wall. It was another habit he had woken up with. He wouldn't let his back be exposed or vulnerable to anyone anymore. It was something that Sam wished he didn't understand. His brother's present condition was wearing heavily on him. Not that he would admit it. In the moments he was alone he would let the selfish little brother take control of his thoughts and he would wish that Dean had just woken up the normal, pain in the ass, overprotective big brother he had always been. Sam would feel guilty after those thoughts drifted through his mind however and then just thanked whoever was out there that his brother was even alive.

"Hey bro? You ready to blow this place?" Sam asked in a chirpy voice. God he just wanted his big brother back. _Give him some time Sam. He's been through hell._

Dean nodded slightly and moved back into the wall a little more. The action made Sam's heart clench a little. His big brother didn't mean to do it though, he was pretty sure of that. It was just like some sort of reflex or something.

Sam continued unfazed, "Okay then. Well let's get going. You need anything first?" Sam asked to which Dean replied with a small shake of his head.

The younger hunter smiled to Cindy, Dean's full time nurse who came in with a wheelchair. Cindy put the chair next to the bed and took a few steps back. She was well aware of Dean's refusal to be touched and knew the transition would go easier if Dean did it himself.

That was another thing that had changed about Dean and it was the thing that hurt Sam the most. The elder hunter refused to be touched. Once he was coherent enough to notice his surroundings he had refused to let anyone touch him. Sam and John included. It had been hell when his doctors had needed to examine him and he had had to be sedated. The last time that Sam had touched his brother was while Dean had been sleeping and Sam had been holding his hand. When the older Winchester had awoke he had almost fallen off the bed in his flailing attempt to get away from Sam, his eyes wide and filled with fear.

It was even harder when Dean had a nightmare, which he seemed to have every time he went to sleep. He would thrash and flail in his bed making low noises in the back of his throat, the closest he ever got to talking these days. It was hard for the other Winchesters to watch because they had learned through trial and error, in other words John with a split lip and Sam with a black eye, not to touch Dean during or after one of his nightmares.

Sam looked up at his brother, Dean was glaring at the chair like it might bite him and he had made no attempt to go near it while Sam had been lost in his thoughts. It only took Sam a few seconds to put two and two together. Dean had realized that someone would have to stand behind him to push the wheelchair because his ribs and weakened state wouldn't allow him to move it himself.

"It's okay Dean, no ones gonna hurt you and I'll push it if you want?" Sam asked softly. Dean hesitated and then nodded, obviously not pleased but lowered himself gingerly into the chair just the same. Sam noticed Dean's body tense as Sam moved behind him and took a hold of the handles.

The younger brother muttered comforting words until they reached the front doors and Dean was allowed to get out of the chair. Cindy said her goodbyes to Dean and Sam and wished them both well.

Once outside Sam walked slowly to the Impala, keeping a vigil eye on Dean who looked like he might run off or have a panic attack any minute. Being midday the hospital car park was pretty busy.

However once Dean was situated in the Impala he visibly calmed down. The corners of his mouth even twitched into a small smile as he fingered the leather seat.

Sam smiled happily. He had always known that the Impala was his brother's safe haven but seeing Dean relax, even marginally, that knowledge was reinforced. And the small smile on Dean's lips that had been missing for way too long made Sam's heart lift.

"So I was thinking we could either head straight out to Missouri's or we could grab a hotel, something to eat and head off in the morning." Sam said, really hoping for an answer now that Dean was out of the hospital.

Dean startled, apparently having forgotten that he wasn't alone. He looked out the window and shrugged noncommittally

"Okay. Well I don't know about you but I'm starving. Besides, it's about time we filled you full of greasy food." He chuckled. It was true though. He did need to get Dean to eat more. His older brother had lost a lot of weight and he barely saw Dean eat anymore. When he did it was normally just a few bites here and there.

Sam pulled the Impala out of the hospital car park and made his way down the street.

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So when deciding how Dean was going to deal with aftermath of what had happened to him and how he would deal with it, I've decided that he isn't going to deal with it, at least not yet. Sarah said in Provenance how she 'went into a nice warm shell', well I'm applying that logic here. But hey, she came out of it didn't she. Who says Dean won't. Please let me know what you think of this development. I'd like to know the good, the bad and the ugly here guys. Thanks for reading! 

Mishka xXx


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Holy bloody crap! I never believed that I would ever reach the 300 mark. Seriously, I'm shocked. When I was thinking about posting this I was gearing myself up thinking I'd get something like 50 reviews tops for the whole story. You guys should see the happy smile on my face right now :) So again, thank you guys so much!!

**WARNINGS: **Again with the warnings lol! Just warning for a dream sequance in this. It's the thing in italics if you want to skip it because it has mention of rape (hardly any detail) and some disturbing imagry. Just warning because it's better safe than sorry._**

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_**Chapter Ten**_

Sam looked up from his burger to his brother. Dean was sitting on the bed (his back against the wall) furthest from the door picking dejectedly at his fries. He had eaten half the burger that Sam had gotten him which was good. It was more than Sam had seen him eat in ages and he figured it had something to do with the trip from the hospital to the fast food joint to the motel in the Impala. His brother seemed to have picked up some since getting back into his 'baby'.

The younger hunter had chosen to stay at a motel for the night before they headed out to Missouri's house for one reason. He wanted Dean to himself. He needed some time with his brother and he wanted to have it alone. At the hospital there were always nurses and doctors or his father buzzing around and he had barely gotten any time with Dean alone. He truly believed that he might be able to get his brother to open up to him without the pressure of other people around. The doctors and pamphlets had both spoken about getting the person to open up and talk about their experience. It was apparently best if it was all out in the open. He couldn't see that happening with Dean the way he was acting at the moment but when his older brother was ready he would be there to listen.

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The drive to Missouri's house took just over five hours with gas breaks every now and then. After the first hour of silence in the car Sam remembered his brother telling him when they were on that plane that Metallica helped to clam him down. Even though Dean was more relaxed than Sam had seen him in ages he was still sitting up straight with his muscles half tensed like he expected another attack at any time but was also fighting the sedative effects of the pain meds that his doctors had given him.

"Hey Dean, how about a little Metallica? I wouldn't mind listening to the Black Album if you want to?" Sam asked his brother, taking his eyes off the road to see his brother's response.

A more pronounced nod of the head was his answer and Sam fought to keep his smile away. That was the most prominent answer he had gotten from his brother and in true Dean Winchester style it had been over listening to Metallica.

Sam kept the music at a just below normal level because he knew how his brother didn't like loud noises but when The Unforgiven came on Dean grabbed the volume knob and turned it up high. It was an almost normal trip back, him and Dean in the Impala with the Black Album playing at an earsplitting level.

By the time Sam pulled the heavy car into the psychic's driveway Dean was almost fully relaxed. He must have known that he was safe because he dropped his straight posture and slouched into a comfortable curve between the passenger seat and door. He even closed his eyes once or twice for more than five minutes. They would snap back open however when Sam drove over a pothole and the younger Winchester could almost hear his brother's yell of _'Shit Sammy, watch where you're bloody driving! If you hurt my car, I'll kill you.'_

Sam cut the throaty engine and looked at his brother. Dean had pulled himself into a straight position again and was eyeing the house wearily.

"It's okay Dean, it's just Missouri's house. You remember Missouri yeah?" Sam asked feeling like an idiot. His brother wasn't stupid; he was just going through a rough patch. Which was perfectly understandable after being tortured, made to watch your brother be tortured and then raped. Besides Sam didn't think that someone like Missouri could be forgotten very easily.

"You're going to be okay Dean. We're just going to stay here awhile while you get better. And no one is going to hurt you okay. Dad and I won't let them. Hell I can even see Missouri wheedling that wooden spoon of hers for you as well. Everything's going to be just fine, I promise." Sam said, sounding more confident that he felt.

The Impala's door squeaked in its own unique way as Sam got out followed slowly by Dean. The front door to the house opened and Missouri came down the stairs followed closely by the boy's father.

"Hey Missouri, hey Dad." Sam greeted them receiving a hug and hello from both.

Dean stood with his back to the car as much as he could get it while still keeping an eye on the group. Missouri smiled at him and made her way over to the young man, mindful to keep her distance. John had told her of Dean's new traits and she knew to respect them. Her heart clenched when she picked up some vibes from the light haired Winchester. His pain, confusion and fear almost knocked her flat on her ass before she was able to bring up walls of defense from the onslaught of emotions. She was surprised that Sam hadn't picked up these vibes coming from his brother.

"Dean honey. Don't you worry, you're going to be just fine. How about you come inside? Sam and your Daddy will get the bags." She said kindly and gave a pointed look to the other Winchesters to let them know that what she had said about them getting the bags was not a suggestion.

The middle Winchester nodded his head and slowly followed her into her house, his hands kept securely in his pockets and throwing glances over his shoulder every few meters until he was safely inside and sitting on the psychic's comfy couch, his back still facing the corner of the room.

Sam followed John, the bags shared between them, into the guest room that he and Dean would be staying in.

"So how is he?" John asked as he put his load of bags down on the floor next to one of the beds.

"Kinda the same. He's a bit better today. He relaxed into the car, it's almost like that thing has healing powers over him. That and the Black Album." Sam smirked and put his finger in his ear to prove his point.

John smiled. That sounded more like his eldest. Hell he had bought Dean that Metallica tape when he was a teen. He was surprised the car hadn't eaten the damn thing by now, "He's still not talking?"

Sam shook his head, "He's eating more since we got out of the hospital. He ate almost a whole burger last night for dinner and he nearly got down a whole packet of chips for lunch today." He paused, "Still not enough but at least he's eating."

"Yeah, he has looked better." John sighed referring to his son's general appearance at the moment. Dean had looked better. He was still doted with bruises, some yellow and green and he had lost a lot of weight since this whole thing started.

"We'll get him better Dad." Sam said firmly. It wasn't a question. They had to get him better, for all their sakes. Because Dean was the glue that held their small dysfunctional family together and if he was taken away then the others would crumble without him.

John nodded and signaled Sam to follow him out into the main part of the house. Sam was assaulted with the smell of homemade chicken soup. Mouth watering Sam followed his father into the lounge room where Dean was sitting stiffly in the corner keeping his eyes wearily on everyone else.

Missouri called to John from the kitchen to help her with the soup and barely five minutes later they were all seated around Missouri's coffee table eating the tasty soup. That is with the exception of Dean who stayed where he was and made no attempt to move or eat any of Missouri's soup.

After ignoring the psychic's 'subtle' encouragement to at least try the soup Dean leaned back into the couch more and folded his arms lightly over his chest. The move could be seen as either defiant or making as Dean making himself comfortable, either way it was appreciated by the other two Winchesters just the same as Dean hadn't been moving around much by himself without instruction.

Sam, John and Missouri all made small talk while eating the soup until Missouri suggested that the brothers turn in for awhile and try to get some rest. Seeing as how Dean's eyes kept dropping every now and then before snapping back open, this seemed to be a good idea.

John and Missouri moved to let the boys past so neither would be behind Dean and the brothers made their way into the guest room. To the left side of the room was a double bed which was placed up against a wall. It would become Dean's while they stayed there and on the right side of the room was a cot for Sam. Missouri had apologized but that was the best she could fit in the small room without the brothers sleeping together which was not going to happen on account of Dean's no touch rule.

The younger hunter shifted through his duffle bag until he found Dean's medication. Extracting the normal adult dosage of his brother's pills Sam put them on Dean's bedside table with a glass of water.

"You have to take them bro. Doctor's orders." Sam said and watched closely to make sure his brother took the medication. Sam had actually slipped in two Vicodin pills into the small pile his brother took as well. He could see that the way Dean was holding himself that he was in pain so he figured not only would it ease the pain but it would help Dean sleep as well. He needed to have a good first sleep here so that he might wake up feeling better and maybe if they were lucky, safe.

It didn't take long before the medications kicked in and Dean fell asleep, his back pressed up against the wall. Sam lay on the cot and watched the slow rise and fall of his brother's chest, unconsciously timing his own breathing by it. Not too long after Dean drifted off, his little brother followed him.

_He was back in that room. Sam could feel the cold metal binding his wrists and ankles. He could smell the sweat and blood from countless hours of torture. He could hear grunting and groaning. Lifting his way to heavy head and peeling open his eyelids the young hunter gasped at the image before him. _

_Dean was on his knees, forehead against the unforgiving ground, barely conscious while their captor raped him viciously from behind. _It's a dream Sam. Wake up, just wake the fuck up! _He couldn't wake though. Couldn't get out of his horrible memory. _

_Their captor came quickly and collapsed on his brother. Sam tried to see his brother's eyes, he tried to get Dean to make eye contact with him but to no avail. The evil man stood up and winked at Sam and god, how the hell could such a normally innocent gesture look like it was going to release all the demons from fucking hell?! _

_Sam ignored the bastard and kept his eyes on his brother. He couldn't see Dean's chest rising or falling. Nonono Dean wasn't breathing._

"_Just to make sure. Besides It's your turn Sammy boy." His captor said as he moved back to Dean, a knife in hand. Placing one hand on Dean's forehead he pulled Dean's head back and put the knife against his throat with the other. Sam tried to scream out to stop him but his voice caught silently in his throat and he could make no noise as their captor pulled the knife across his older brother's throat causing his life giving bloody to fall from the open wound and pool on the floor around him. _

_The dream changed and Sam on his knees, face planted in his brother's blood and staring into Dean's empty dead eyes as their captor raped him. The pain, even though he knew it was a dream, was excruciating. His eyes burned with tears and he choked out silent sobs._

Sam snapped upright on his cot, grasping his sweat covered sheets. He ran a hand shakily across his face and tried to calm his rapid breathing. He could feel the tears in his eyes and stubbornly wiped them away.

God he should have expected it. He had been having nightmares about what had happened to him and his brother in that room almost every night since it happened. That one however had been the worst by far. He stood on wobbly legs and walked quietly across the small room to the other bed. He let out a sigh or relief when he saw Dean just as he had left him, sleeping peacefully for once, even if it was a drugged sleep.

The young hunter let out a shaky breath and made his way to the kitchen. He wouldn't being going back to sleep that's for sure. He made himself a coffee then went and sat on the back steps of Missouri's house that looked over her plush garden.

Getting lost in his thoughts he didn't even hear Missouri approach. He started when she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He sniffed then wiped at the tears that had stubbornly refused to leave his eyes since his nightmare. Damn it. Now was not a time to cry. He had to be strong. He had to be strong for Dean or his brother would never get better.

Missouri sat next to the young hunter and looked out at her garden. Vibrant colors decorated the flowered plants and bushes and bright greens made up her soft grass. It had a comforting effect, helped to relax the mind. She would often spend her time sitting on her back steps just gazing at the beauty that Mother Nature could provide.

The sat in silence for some time before Missouri spoke.

"You want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" she asked quietly. She could have read his mind but threw away the notion. These boys needed their privacy and she wouldn't be the one to take it away from them.

Sam was silent for awhile, mulling over whether or not he should confide in the psychic about what had been on his mind. He knew he needed to talk to someone about it all. He wasn't like his father and brother when it came to emotions. Whereas they could easily internalize theirs, he needed to get what he was feeling out in the open. He needed to talk about it to help make it go away. He couldn't confide in his father. As much as he loved the man, he wasn't exactly Doctor Phil and the person he would normally talk to was currently dealing with his own emotions and probably wouldn't even understand if he did tell Dean. Missouri seemed like a person he could trust, who wouldn't judge him. Besides he had no one else and that was the sad truth of it.

"I couldn't stop it. Dean got hurt because of me. It was me who insisted we take that damned job. It was my fault we were there and it's my fault he got hurt. I couldn't stop it." He whispered, his voice cracking from the damn lump in his throat.

He hadn't done anything to stop it. He spent the whole time tied up while Dean was beaten and raped in front of him. It was torture. His brother had sustained physical torture to the full but Sam had been mentally tortured. It wasn't easy seeing someone you loved and hero worshiped be broken in front of you.

Sometimes he wished he could have the kind of peace his brother had now. Well at least he hoped that Dean was in peace in his mind. He would hate to think that his brother was living the same nightmare over and over again. God listen to him. Wishing he could be like his older brother; broken. Who was he kidding? He just wanted his Dean back and he couldn't even make that happen. _Failure._

Missouri put her arm around Sam's shoulders, relieved when he leaned into her rather than pull away.

"If Dad hadn't had shown up when he did Dean would be dead. We both would. God how could I be so stupid!" he choked out as the tears finally fell, "And now he's broken and I don't know how to help him."

The older psychic held the younger close. Replaying his words in her head she realized something, "Sam. Do you know how your father knew how to find you?" she asked. God if John hadn't told him then it was no wonder his youngest was suck a wreck.

Sam shook his head. He had been meaning to ask his father but never really got the chance because of everything that had been going on with Dean. All he cared about was that his father had found him and his brother and that they were alive because of that.

Missouri gave herself a mental reminder to slap John Winchester the next time she saw him, "Hunny it was you who saved you and your brother. You and your gift." She paused and moved him out to arms length so she could make eye contact with him, "You made contact with me Sam. Even though you didn't know it. You gave me what I needed to know so I could contact your father to come and get you. You saved your brother Sam. You did." She said sternly.

Sam looked at Missouri with wide eyes. He'd what?! He opened his mouth to say something but Missouri cut him off.

"As for your bother's condition now and how to help him. Sam hunny, you're doing all you can do. And you're doing the right thing. Just give him time. He'll come 'round." She patted Sam on the back and then stood, knees cracking, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." _namely Jonathan Winchester_ she finished for herself.

Sam nodded his thanks to her and got lost back into his thoughts, staring out into the garden. Had he really connected with another psychic? It seemed far fetched but then how else would have their father known where to find them? Besides Missouri wouldn't have lied to him about something so important. He drunk the rest of his coffee and stood. Stretching his long limbs he put his feelings of being helpless aside. For now at least. Because he didn't have time for negative thoughts. Right now what was most important was getting his brother healthy again and by god, he was going to do it.

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o.O So that's Chapter Ten. I have five more written and I can either slow down with the posts until I'm finished the Epilogue ooor I can keep posting at my happy go lucky current rate and there will probably be a larger wait for the Epilogue. If that makes any sense. Let me know. Please review and tell me what you thought of this chapter. The scene between Missouri and Sam almost killed me. I love her but she is so damned hard to write! But yes, I'll see you beautiful people on the next update ;) 

Mishka xXx


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **:) Thanks for the reviews guys! I love 'em! I didn't want to update while the alerts were down but it looks like they're going to be down for awhile and I just couldn't be bothered waiting anymore so I hope that the length and content of this chapter makes for the wait. Please review to let me know that I didn't make a mistake by posting while the alerts are down

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_**Chapter Eleven**_

Things in the Winchester world seemed to be picking up by the third week at Missouri's place. John and Sam, although not as close as they once were had reformed a good father son relationship. Missouri had become kind of like a mother figure to everyone and even put John back in his place every now and then. She must have been the only person on the face of this planet that Sam had ever seen his father actually take orders from. It gave Sam amusement to no end.

Dean had been getting better as well. He was eating more and seemed to be more trusting as the surroundings were becoming more familiar to him. Missouri's gentle ways seemed to be getting through to him somewhat. He was healing nicely now too and only took the Vicodin at night to help him sleep. He just generally seemed to be getting better, he wasn't so tense around everyone, being Sam, John and Missouri seeing as he hadn't left the house since he arrived, anymore. Sam had even caught a glimpse of a small smile when Missouri had been telling of their father the other day.

However on the twenty-third night at Missouri's it all went to shit.

Sam had been lightly resting on his cot, just thinking about Stanford and how he wished that he had made the effort to stay in contact with his brother while he had been away, when he heard movement coming from the other bed.

Knowing that it was one of his brother's now frequent nightmares, Sam got up and slowly made his was to the side of the double bed where Dean was thrashing, tangled in his sheets.

"It's okay Dean. You're safe here. Just wake up bro. No ones gonna hurt you.' Sam cooed gently trying to get his brother to wake up without touching him because even though Dean had been slowly improving, he still refused to be touched.

Dean's breathing was heavy and he was covered in a film layer of sweat when his eyes shot open. As soon as Sam saw his brother's eyes open he was just about to take a step back so he was out of his brother's personal space when Dean started screaming. Sam's heart was beating so fast in shock and fear that he was surprised it didn't beat right out of his ribcage.

Sam didn't know whether to step back or grab a hold of his brother. For god's sake Dean hadn't uttered a word or made a sound since he had awoken in the hospital and here he was, wide eyed and sitting straight up in bed screaming at the top of his lungs.

The hoarse screams stopped almost a suddenly as they had started and Dean moved so fast Sam didn't know what hit him. One second his brother was sitting on bed, the next he was hanging half off the bed with his arms wrapped tightly around Sam's waist and his head burrowed into Sam's chest sobbing.

Taken aback it took Sam only a moment to realize his brother had gotten over his no speak, no touch rule and was crying and hugging him openly, before he wrapped his arms around Dean's shaking shoulders.

"Sam, I tried- I couldn't- I can't- I'm- Oh god!" He stuttered in between huge shuddering intakes of breath, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh god please no. I'm so sorry!" he gasped, his voice hoarse and raw from not being used in so long, muffled by his baby brother's chest.

John came running into the room, rifle in hand and eyes ablaze followed closely by Missouri who was wearing her hot pink nightgown (the one covered with pink and red lips and the words 'hot stuff' which had amused Sam and John to no end), both having been apparently woken by Dean's screams.

The oldest Winchester took a few seconds to survey the room looking for the cause of his son's distress before his eyes fell onto his boys. Dean clinging to his little brother like a life line and crying so hard he was hyperventilating and Sam who had his arms just as firmly around his big brother and was rubbing small circles on the elder's back while muttering words of comfort in an attempt to calm him down.

Out of everyone in the room Missouri was the only one who was not shocked by this sudden turn of events as she quickly made her way from the doorway, to the kitchen to collect a paper bag and then back again before anyone had even moved.

Pushing past John who still stood in the doorway frozen by the sight in front of him, Missouri gently handed the bag to Sam and told him to get his brother to breath into it before he passed out.

Sam tenderly pulled Dean away from him enough to place the bag over his brother's mouth and nose, "Breathe Dean. We've got you now. No one's going to hurt you. You're safe. That's it just breathe.' Sam spoke softly to his brother, keeping a steady hand on his shoulder and watching the bag inflate and deflate with Dean's ragged breathing.

Before he knew it John was at Dean's other side also encouraging his son to take deep breaths, in and out. In and out. When Dean's breathing had evened out to a more normal rate, the middle Winchester closed his eyes and leant back into his brother and father's warm and safe embrace. He knew where he was now and he knew he was safe. It had almost been like he hadn't been in his body for the last five weeks and had only just come back into himself now. The last five weeks were kind of like a blurry dream. Feeling the two most important people in his life next to him he relaxed completely.

"Thank you." He whispered softly and let his consciousness drift from him, exhausted from his breakdown.

"Sam what happened?" John asked as they gently eased the sleeping Dean back into a lying position on his bed. He ran a rough hand over his two day old beard and looked expectantly at his youngest.

The younger hunter didn't take his eyes off his older brother and kept his hand securely on Dean's arm. In all truth he didn't know what the hell had just happened, he was still in shock, "He had a nightmare." Sam exhaled.

"And?" the elder Winchester asked. He had already guessed that seeing as every time his son fell asleep he was plagued with vicious nightmares.

"And when he woke up he started screaming. Then he just snapped and started crying and holding onto me for dear life."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not really, just rambled that he was sorry. I don't know what he thinks he has to be sorry for here. He's the victim in all this."

John nodded his head in agreement. His son was the victim. God, Dean Winchester a victim. He had never thought he would hear the day when his son's name and victim would be put together in that context. It just sounded dirty. John looked up at Missouri when the psychic reentered the room carrying a tray that had a pot of coffee and some mugs upon it, "Missouri do you know what happened?" he asked his old friend.

"I'm not quite sure, but I think his walls have finally fallen down. From what I've been able to pick up from Dean these last few weeks he's been in a kind of dream state. You see when 'it' happened he built these mental walls and retreated behind them, it was his way of coping. He kind of escaped his body. So now that his walls have come down he's awoken back into himself," she explained as she gave the hunters some fresh coffee. She looked down sympathetically at Dean and rested her hand lightly on his forehead, "The poor boy is so lost. He's only just realized what happened to him."

Sam audibly gulped. Dean just woke up? Well it did kind of make sense now that he thought about it. Dean had seemed kind of dreamy, for lack of a better word, since 'it' happened. In fact Sam had watched the walls go up, had seen it in his brother's eyes when had awoken to that god awful sight in that goddamned room. He couldn't help but worry if his brother would wake up again with his walls rebuilt or what? The broken Dean he had just dealt with? Or maybe his normal cocky Dean? Yeah he could wish. That and wait. All he could do now was wait.

Dean slept for the next eight hours with John and Sam by his side, keeping quiet vigil to see what would happen when Dean awoke.

The sudden sharp intake of breath from the person lying on the bed bought two sets of worried eyes to him. Dean opened his eyes slowly and was met with the concerned face of his little brother Sam.

"Sammy? Wha? Where am I?" he asked groggily and winced as his hoarse voice seemed to catch in his throat. Dean bought his hand up to his face and rubbed the sleep of his eyes. Man he had a killer headache and his eyes hurt like a bitch.

"Dean?" Sam asked cautiously. His heart was in his throat at how normal his brother seemed to be acting, well even if he was a bit disorientated.

"No, it's fucking Santa Claus." Dean quipped as Sam came fully into focus. His mind was fuzzy and he felt tingly all over like he had been badly hurt but was almost healed. And his Dad was there and was that Missouri he had heard?

Sam let out a laugh that turned into a sob halfway through and launched himself at his brother for a hug. Even the mighty John had an ear to ear grin.

Dean tensed at the unexpected action and as he put his arms around his little brother's shaking shoulders, the events of those few days flashed before his eyes and he knew why Sam was latched onto him so hard.

"Oh god Dean I thought I lost you." Sam muttered between quiet sobs. Dean's Santa Claus remark had been so Dean that it had ripped down any of the defenses that he had constructed over the last five weeks. His brother was back! His Dean was there in his arms and he sure as hell wasn't about to let go. Not for the world.

"Sam," Dean wheezed. His little brother was holding his so tight he couldn't breathe properly and his ribs were hurting. Sam only tightened his arms at his brother's words so Dean tried again, "Sam. Air!" he said a little more insistently tapping Sam on the back to enunciate his point.

Sam let go of Dean so fast he almost toppled off the bed, "Oh god Dean. I hurt you! I'm so sorry." He stuttered. He had hurt Dean. His brother had just gotten back to himself and he had hurt him! _'Idiot Sam you moron you know he's still recovering from his injuries!'_

Recognizing the look of guilt setting into his little brother's eyes Dean did his best to smile, "Sam its fine. You always did have a strong grip on you." He half joked. Sam didn't look to convinced so Dean tried again, "I'm fine." He paused for a minute and then spoke, "Well I will be once I have a shower."

---

Dean entered the bathroom, closed the door and leant back against it breathing hard. Now that there were no people around for him to hold his façade up for, he completely collapsed in on himself. Panting to keep from screaming at what had happened to him, he slid down the door to the ground and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the images.

Oh god, how the hell could he have let that happen to him?! And Sam, his little brother had been hurt because he had let his fear get the best of him. _You're only human. _Yeah well, Dean Winchester didn't have time to be human. People lives relied on him and here he was wallowing in his own self pity.

Pulling himself shakily to his feet Dean stumbled over to the sink. He held onto it as he looked into the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale beneath the still fading bruises and the short beard he had grown over the last five weeks. Obviously because no one had dared to come near him with a razor. Probably was a good thing too or he most likely would have tried to take them out or had a fit trying to get away.

Dean shook his head to try and get rid of his thoughts. He turned on the cold water, leant down and splashed some on his face. The cold water felt refreshing against his dry skin and he savored the feeling it gave him. Dean took in a deep shuddering breath and raised to look back into the mirror. His eyes widened in horror when instead of his reflection he was faced with the image of his attacker.

"Hey Deannie. Miss me?" the image asked in his sardonic voice that sent shivers down the hunters back.

The hunter shook his head in denial. _Nonononononono_ this wasn't happening. Oh god he was losing his mind.

"You know they think you're weak. They don't love you and they're sick of you Deannie. You're a burden to them. If it wasn't for you Sammy and John would be happy." His attacker hissed.

"NO!" Dean screamed, raised his fist and punched the mirror as hard as he could. He pulled his hand back which was bloody, broken and had shards of mirror imbedded deep into it. The hunter held his now injured hand to his chest, unaware of his blood dripping to the floor, and kept his eyes placed firmly to the shattered mirror.

The sound of his father and little brother yelling at him to open the door whilst banging on it bought him out of his shocked stupor. Taking another quick glance at the bloody smashed mirror he turned and flicked the lock on the bathroom door, letting his brother and father enter the room like two angry bulls.

Sam took in the destruction of the bathrooms mirror and then his older brother who stood back, one bloody hand clutched protectively to his chest, pale and shaking like he had just seen a ghost. Then again if Dean had just seen a ghost, considering their line of work he shouldn't be so freaked out about it. Hesitant to touch the older man Sam spoke gently and kept a respectful distance, "Dean? Are you okay?"

Dean nodded his head and Sam's heart almost broke at the thought that his brother had reverted back to his no speak, no touch rule.

"Show me your hand son." John said stepping forward in an authoritative manner. The younger hunter held out his hand and John grimaced at the pieces of glass protruding from his sons hand, "Dean what happened?" the older Winchester asked.

Dean had never liked to lie to his family but right now he felt like he was losing his mind. Damn it he was weak and he had been a burden on his family. Well he wasn't going to be one anymore. It stopped now, "I, um, I must have slipped. Sorry." He mumbled.

John didn't say anything just nodded his head and left the room to the first aid kit. He knew his son was lying to him. Hell it didn't take a genius to know that. Not only had Dean's general demeanor been unconvincing but there was the mirror that had been broken, then pattern of the mirror and pieces in his sons hand, well, he had broken enough mirrors in the same way to know what it looked like.

Sam gently moved Dean to sit on the closed toilet forgetting his earlier hesitation. His brother obviously wasn't coping, "Dean what happened?" he asked, repeating his father's question in the hope that his brother would answer it truthfully for him.

"Nothing. I'm fine Sam. Hey can you do me a favor?" Dean asked, taking back control of the situation as much as he could.

"Yeah?"

"Go get me some of those painkillers the doctors had me on would you?" he looked to his hand when Sam gave him a quizzical look. Sam got the gist and quickly made his way his way down the hall to what he had come to call 'their room'. He grabbed the Vicodin bottle and shook out a few pills. His brother's system had been gradually upping his tolerance to the pills and Sam was trying to wean him off the painkillers because of the fear that Dean would get addicted to them.

When he got back into the bathroom Missouri was there and he felt a pang of guilt for her. Poor thing had taken them in only to have her mirror broken. John was also there, kneeling in front of his son and expertly removing the pieces of mirror from Dean's hand.

Dean hissed when a particularly vicious piece was extracted, "I'm really sorry Missouri. I'll get you a new one." He offered with a small smile. Sure he knew that his father and brother knew he was lying about the mirror, they'd have to be really dense to not pick up on his crappy lie, and if there was one thing that Sam and John Winchester were not, it was dense. However he got the feeling that Missouri knew exactly what had happened and he begged her silently not to tell his brother of father.

Missouri nodded her head so slightly that only he caught it and he gave her a genuine smile to thank her.

"Here." Sam said as he handed Dean the pills, who swallowed them dry even though his throat hurt like a bitch.

"Thanks." Dean hissed when his father prodded his hand again and pulled a few more smaller pieces of mirror out of the deep cuts with tweezers.

"You're lucky this doesn't need stitches son." John muttered as he took out some gauze and wrapped his eldest son's hand up. It was times like these that he thanked his marine days for the triage he had learned.

"You know what?" Dean asked the concerned people who were stating, "I could really go for a huge piece of American red meat." He smirked. All he had to do was keep his façade up long enough to keep his family off his back and then until he was own again where he could drop it. Preferably somewhere alone so he could scream himself hoarse. Because that's what he wanted to do, scream himself into oblivion. Scream and cry. Because fuck, he felt so used and broken he was afraid that if anyone asked him if he was okay he would snap and break into a thousand tiny pieces.

The small group stared at the middle Winchester as if he was even more insane than he already thought he was. But whatever, screw them. Besides a huge piece of steak makes everything better. Yeah right, and his life is completely apple pie too.

When he realized no one was going to move he stood up, "Well I'm going. You want some food you can come too." He said before he walked out to go and get changed.

Sam moved first. He had recognized his brother's attempt to be strong in front of the people he loved and Sam knew he probably needed to do this. Rebuild the walls that had been so brutally torn down. He quickly got up and followed his brother into their shared room. Dean was sitting hunched over, arms resting on knees on his bed and staring at his hands. Sam's chest tightened at the image of his devil may care brother looking so tired, lost and defeated. He cleared his throat to let the older man know he had just entered the room.

Dean didn't look up or move an inch so Sam went and crouched on the floor in front of him, waiting for his brother to say something.

"Sam?" the older brother asked after a long while.

"Yeah Dean?"

"What, what happened after?" he asked, his voice so low Sam barely caught it.

"Umm, Dad came and got us after that bastard," he paused to clear his throat, "After he, you know." Sam watched his brother visibly shudder at his words but Dean had asked him a question and he was damn well going to answer him, "Dad killed him. Then we got you the hell out of there and to the hospital. You were a mess man. But you're fine now. You're going to be fine."

Dean inhaled deeply and on the exhale asked quietly, "Did they do the tests?" It was a thought that had just hit him on his way into their room. What if he had caught something from that bastard? He was pretty damn sure that his attacker hadn't used a condom.

Sam stared at Dean for a few seconds trying to make sense of the question he had been asked. Tests? What tests? Then his eyes widened as it clicked what his brother was trying to ask him and he hurriedly answered the waiting man, "Yeah they did Dean. You're all fine. You don't have anything. Well as far as I can tell you're still your normal annoying self but besides from that you're fine." Sam joked trying to make light of the dark convocation he had been pulled in.

The older man sighed in relief. That was a great weight off his shoulders and he thanked whoever was out there that he was fine in that regard. Running his hands over his face and through his hair Dean realized he hadn't had the chance to have his shower. He felt dirty since he 'awoke'. It wasn't a visible dirty, just a feeling of unseemliness, of being used and abused that he had the strong desire to be rid of. He looked up to meet Sam's worried and hopeful gaze and straightened his posture.

"Right. Shower then food okay Francis? Because I hope you weren't waiting for one of those lifetime moments because I can tell you right now that you're shit out of luck on that one. I've been there and done that enough so far. Besides I really need to shave. I'm starting to look like Dad." Dean smirked.

"Yeah you wish you could look half this good." Came a new yet unmistakable voice from the door. John was leaning against the door frame, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. He had come in to hear the Dean he knew. The cocky, devil-may-care son he knew. He hadn't been able to resist replying to his son's comment which he obviously wasn't supposed to hear. God he had missed joking around with his oldest. Sammy just didn't have that kind of dark humor that the two older Winchester's harnessed and used in the dark times to get them through.

Dean's head spun towards the door and he could see the light in his father's normally dark eyes. They needed this, both John and Sam needed to see that he was doing okay. And when had he ever denied them anything, "I don't know," he drawled, "You're getting a bit scruffy there old man." He chuckled.

"I'll have you know that the ladies dig this look." John replied indignantly but the light tone was still present.

Sam's chest loosened at the banter and he grinned like an idiot. God he had seriously missed this. And as he watched Dean push playfully past John who ruffled his hair he thought to himself that, yeah maybe everything would turn out alright.

* * *

Please review and let me know what you thought because I was pretty worried about this chapter and what happens in it. Be assured that there will be plenty angst and plot still to come. So let me know what you thought ;) And fingers crossed that the alerts come back soon! 

Mishka xXx


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Man thank you so much! You seriously make it worth me posting this. I'm sorry that I didn't get to reply to your reviews but I figured that you would prefer the update to the replies so here it is! Chapter Twelve! We're getting there. Only a few more to go guys.

**WARNINGS:** It's like a flashback to some pretty heavy torture, something in the likes of the first few chapters. And everyone thought I would leave it at that did they? All I can say is MWHAHAHAHA! I mean. Yes, this is the last flashback so if it's your kind of thing then please enjoy!

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_**Chapter Twelve**_

Dean popped his head around the door way and into the kitchen where Missouri was currently pealing potatoes for that nights dinner. The psychic had _insisted_ that while the Winchesters were living under her roof then they would eat properly. That meant no take out and good home cooked meals. Meat and three veg seemed to be fine. The meat was fine, Missouri cooked a mean roast, but the vegetables weren't really his thing. He ate them though because it was expected of him. However there was no way in hell he was going to eat the broccoli that Missouri kept putting on his plate. Nup, no way no how. That shit was freakin' demonic!

"Missouri, have you got an extension cord?" he asked. The Impala was dirty and as he still wasn't that keen on leaving the house, he would have to settle for cleaning it up in Missouri's driveway instead of taking it to a 'do-it-yourself' carwash. He needed the cord because the damn vacuum wouldn't reach otherwise.

Missouri looked up from the spuds, "In the garage hun." She said.

The hunter nodded his thanks and made his way out the back to her garage. It was messy but in a nice way. While Dean looked for the cord he thought about the last few days.

Since he had 'woken up' he hadn't rarely left the house. His idea to go out for steak had been shot down by Missouri and he couldn't have been more grateful. He really didn't want to leave the house. Not yet. He was afraid that people would look at him and be able to tell what had happened to him. See how he was broken and barely holding it together. She must have read his mind because she had stopped them and made them dinner. Hell, the psychic had even made him cookies. And yeah they were his. She'd smacked John across the back of the head for trying to grab one before he had. Dean had barely been able to hide his laughter from the look of shock on his father's face.

That was another thing. Missouri had been being nice to him. They all had been. It was like they thought he was going to break down again at any minute. He wasn't. He wasn't okay with what had happened to him, and he probably never would, but he wasn't going to let that show. His break down in front of his brother and father had been a one time thing. _Suck it up. You're a Winchester._ He would take everything he had felt when he had 'woken up' and he would push it down, deep inside him and he wouldn't let it out. Not for anyone. Besides, his subconscious had been dealing with it. Not that he would call the nightmares he had been having 'dealing'. That was an entire different issue.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Dean finally located the extension cord. As soon as he picked it up from the draw he had found it in he was thrust violently back into the past.

_Dean lifted his groggy head. He and Sam had been awake for awhile now. What a rude awakening it had been to find himself and his little brother in a freaky mirror room, in their boxer shorts and chained to a wall. When he got out of here he as going to kill that bastard. _Last time I accept a drink from a stranger.

_The older hunter glared at the guy who walked through the door. He was the one they had been interviewing. The one who had spiked their drinks, "What the fuck is this?" Dean demanded angrily._

_The man smirked at him, his eyes cold, "Deannie you shouldn't use such foul language. It makes me angry and you don't want me angry." He said calmly._

_Dean glanced to his brother and gave him a look as if to say _'great-a-psycho-freak"

"_My my my. You are a very pretty boy aren't you?" their captor asked leaning into the hunter's personal space. Confident that he wouldn't be hurt by the chained man, "I liked to make pretty boys like you scream."_

"_Yeah well sorry to burst your bubble but I'm not really in the mood right now. How about you let us go and I'll pop by later?" Dean said in his sarcastic tone._

_The next thing he knew his head whipped to the side from a vicious punch. He turned back to face his captor with a shit eating grin, "That all you got bitch?" he teased. He hoped his captor didn't notice his probably glazed eyes as his vision swam around. The hard hit had been made worse by the drugs still coursing through his system._

_A smile spread slowly across the evil man's face, "A challenge huh? I always did like a challenge and from what I can tell Deannie boy you're going to prove rather hard to break. But I've never failed before and I don't intend to now so lets get started shall we?"_

_Sam stared at his brother, his anger, frustration and concern showing clearly through his eyes. What the hell was his brother thinking pissing of the guy who had them at his disposal?! Then again his brother never could keep his mouth closed at the best of times._

_Dean was hit in the stomach followed by a quick upper cut to the jaw that, as much as it pissed him off, almost made him black out again. The chains which were connected to his wrist cuffs were disconnected from the wall and swung over the rafters bringing Dean's arms above his head and making it so his feet just touched the floor._

"_What do you want with us?" Sam asked realizing it was time to intervene. _

_Their captor looked up from the box he was looking in and shrugged, "I want to play a game with you boys. Don't worry we're going to have fun." He answered as he pulled an extension cord out of the box._

_Sam highly doubted the fun part and his eyes widened in shock and horror as the guy stepped behind his brother and raised the cord. It made a whistling noise as it flew through the air and then hit his brother's bare back._

_Dean went to cry out in surprise at the sudden pain but bit his tongue instead. He turned his head and realized what he was being hit with. The plug from the extension cord had hit him on the left shoulder blade with brutal force. _That's going to leave a bruise._ Recovering from the surprise pain he spoke, "Dude you hit like a g-" he was cut off as he bit his tongue again to keep from crying out as he was hit again, the plug hitting him on his mid right back this time._

"_Scream for me." His captor hissed._

_There was no way in hell he was going to scream for this sick fuck. So as he was continually hit, losing count in the almost blinding pain, he bit his tongue to keep his captor from having the satisfaction of hearing him scream._

_Soon all that was heard in the room was the slight whistle of the cord as it sliced the air, followed by the thwack it made when it came into contact with Dean's back, and then the small grunt of pain he made as he bit his tongue and clenched his jaw. Even Sam's screams to stop faded into the background._

_The man stopped and stood panting. His arm was burning for flinging the cord as hard as he could. He wasn't getting anywhere with making this stubborn bastard scream. He turned to the younger guy, "Well seeing as Deannie here isn't making a noise let's see how you do." He stated wiping the sweat off his brow._

"_No!" Dean yelled as their captors word broke through the haze that was his mind. His back was pretty much numb now, just a dull throbbing in time with his heartbeat and he was willing to bet it was going to be an impressive black and blue when the bruising showed up if it hadn't already. But he still wasn't going to let that bitch touch his brother. Not while he still had a breath left in him._

_The man stopped, his arm half raised and pointing towards Sam, the younger brother glaring at him with pure hated seeping out of his moss green eyes, "What was that?" he asked, not dropping his stance._

"_No. I'll scream for you. Just don't touch him." He whispered._

"_Oh I don't know," the man drawled, "Sammy's pretty cute as well."_

_Dean bristled at the use of his nickname for his brother coming fro that freak. He swallowed hard on his pride and did the only thing he could do, "Please."_

"_Dean no!" Sam yelled. He could see the sick grin spreading across the guy's face. This wasn't good._

"_Please." Dean repeated, still half out of it because of the drugs and pain._

_Their captor nodded silently and moved back to his 'box of tricks'. He put the cord back in and produced a long cattle whip. The whip sliced the air and his Dean's bruised back with a crack. The eldest Winchester let out a scream as the whip split his skin. Even if he hadn't said he would scream he doubted he would have been able to keep that cry in without biting his tongue in half. It had felt like it had reached the bone even though he knew that wasn't possible. _

_The whip landed again and again splitting the already abused skin on Dean's back. He couldn't help the primal screams that were ripped from his throat. All he could focus on was the blinding pain he was suffering. His legs gave way beneath him so that his arms were supporting his dead weight. His mind concentrated on his lashes, the rhythmic crack against his numbing mind._

'_Whoosh, thwack, scream, breath.'_

----

"Hey Missouri. Where do you want these?" Sam asked as he entered the kitchen. He and John had just gotten back from grocery shopping. Missouri had been running low so she had given them a list of things she needed and ordered them out the door claiming that Dean would be fine alone and that they needed to spend some father son time together anyway.

"On the table thanks." She answered.

Sam put the bags on the table and looked around the room as John came in behind him, lugging his own bags, "Where's Dean?" Sam queried.

"You brother's a big boy Sam, he can spend a little time on his own," at the youngest Winchester's look she caved, "He's out in the garage."

John watched Sam bound from the kitchen, on his way to his brother. He pulled out a chair and sat back at the table facing Missouri.

"How is he?" he asked tiredly.

"He'll be fine John. However you two keep hovering over that boy and it'll drive him insane." She scolded gently.

"I'm just worried about him Missouri. He doesn't leave the house, he's quiet and I don't even think he realizes that he still flinches at loud noises. I don't know how to help him." John confessed as he used both hands to scrub at his face.

John was right. Dean had been quiet and jumpy. Missouri wondered if he has stopped taking the medication that the doctors had had him on. Before he had 'woken up' she had watched as Sam pulled out pills from different bottles – a small handful when he was done – and had given them to Dean. She doubted that Dean had continued taking them and the withdrawal effect it was probably having on his body probably wasn't helping matters either. Still he was dealing with his matters better than a lot of people would have if they had been in his place.

"Just give him some time John. He needs to heal." She said.

The hunter nodded, sighed and stood up, "So where do these go?" he asked pulling some of the food out of the bags.

-----

Sam jumped the steps leading out into Missouri's garden. He really wanted to see his brother, the shopping had taken longer than he had anticipated. They had been gone a few hours and he had this worrying feeling in his stomach. He needed to see Dean. Now.

He slowed his pace as he reached for the garage door. If he bounded in Dean would get annoyed at being 'treated like a child'. However when he walked in his stomach dropped.

Dean was in the corner leaning against the work bench, bent over, his eyes wide and glazed, hyperventilating. In his hands clutched tightly to his chest was an extension cord. Putting two and two together quickly Sam realized his big brother was having a panic attack. He had had one two days before when John had said something to Dean which happened to be the same combination of words that their captor had used once or twice. Dean had freaked had to say the least.

This one was looking like a bad one. Damn it he shouldn't have left his brother alone. He had had a bad feeling the whole time but he'd ignored it. God who knew how long Dean had been standing like this!

Sam was at his brother's side in a second. He put his hands on both sides of Dean face and moved it so they were looking eye to eye. The older hunter's skin was sweaty and he was swaying a little on his feet, "Dean? Dean look at me. You're okay. Shh, it's okay." Sam cooed.

There was no response to show that Dean even knew Sam was there. He was trapped in his mind seeing whatever had happened to him. Although judging from the cord in his hand Sam was willing to bet he was remembering the brutal whipping he had received on the first day.

"Shit." Sam put his hand on his brother's wrist and gently felt for a pulse. Dean's heart was racing. He had to get him calmed down. The younger brother tried to pull the cord from his brother's grasp thinking that it would somehow help to calm Dean down but the older wasn't giving in. His knuckles where white, his grasp was so tight. He wasn't letting go.

"Dean. Dean snap out of it!" Sam said a little louder. The only response he got was Dean's knees buckling as the hyperventilating finally got to him and made him too dizzy to stand. Sam caught his brother under the arms and lowered him slowly to the ground, "Dean, listen to me. You need to calm down." Sam half yelled trying to get through to his brother.

"Hey do you boys want some lunch?" John's voice came from just outside the garage a few seconds later.

"Dad!" Sam called out to his father, the urgency in his voice easy to read.

John appeared in the garage barely a second later, his eyes sharp, and the hunter in full control. He quickly assed the situation, Dean and Sam on the floor, Dean in the middle of a nasty panic attack and Sam looking like he was on the verge of one. John quickly rushed to their side and grabbed Dean's face, looking into his eyes, "Dean, son, snap out of it. You need to calm down. That's an order." John said, his tone stern.

Dean made no change, just kept sucking in huge breaths like he was choking. If he kept up like this much longer he was going to pass out. Still despite it all his grip on the cord was iron.

"Let's get him out of here." John said when it was obvious Dean's condition was not going to change. Sam nodded and together they lifted the middle Winchester and carried him into the house.

They put him down on the couch and Missouri came in with a wet cloth which she placed on his forehead. Her skin came into contact with his and she gasped and retracted her hand like she'd been burnt. Her eyes filled with tears and she backed into the closest chair. With her hand over her heart she looked at the young hunter with sorrow filled eyes, "Oh god! How could anyone do that?" she croaked.

John looked up to Missouri. He bit his tongue to keep from asking what she had seen. Now was not the time. Sam hadn't told him much of what had happened to them except from telling him that Dean had been raped. He was pretty sure if his youngest hadn't been so out of it he wouldn't have even told him that. Still he had been able to put some pieces together from the doctor's report and the wounds he had seen covering his sons. He wondered what Missouri had seen or felt when she'd made contact with Dean. The psychic had turned an unnatural pale. He couldn't worry about her right now though. Dean needed him.

Sam's attention was purely on his brother. He cupped the side of Dean's face lightly and held his brother's hand with his other hand. Dean's breathing had calmed down some since they had moved him inside, his grip on the cord lightened slightly. His flashback was coming to an end and Sam sent out a prayer of thank you for that small gift.

"Dean? Dean son, can you hear me?" John asked quietly in a comforting tone that he rarely used.

Dean slowly blinked once and awareness came back into his eyes. His breathing returned to normal and he looked down at the cord he was holding onto with disgust. He quickly dropped it onto the ground beside him. Damn now his knuckles hurt from being cramped for so long. After closing his eyes to regain his composure, put his memories back into the box labeled _'forget and never bring up again'_ and sat himself up. When he opened his eyes he was faced with his captor leaning over him, holding his hand.

"No. No you can't be here. Leave me alone!" he said in a small voice that sounded so unlike his own. He pulled his hand from the evil man's and stared at him, half shaking his head in denial. This freak couldn't be here, he was dead. His captor tilted his head to the side for and looked at him with brief concern before a sadistic grin spread across his face.

"Dean are you okay? It's me Sam." he said, his eyes glittering dangerously.

Missouri who was watching the exchange between Dean and Sam realized what was happening, "Sam. Move away from him. Slowly. You too John." She said.

Sam looked up from his brother's petrified face to the woman, "What's happening? I can't just leave him." He said.

"Sam. I mean it. Move. Away. Now." Missouri said in a tone that clearly left no room for argument.

The youngest Winchester however wasn't going to give in, unlike his father who had taken the hint and now stood beside Missouri. He turned back to Dean, "Dean it's me Sam. Talk to me man."

"Please no. Just go away. You're not Sam. Leave me alone." He whimpered his breathing picking up again as he moved back from his captor. He couldn't see his little brother in front of him, the concerned moss green eyes boring into him with worry. All he could see was his captor with cold, hard eyes and a sadistic smile. He couldn't let this guy do that to him again. He wouldn't.

Sam reached out to grasp Dean's hand again. Missouri went to cry out a warning but she was too late. Dean moved faster than anyone had ever seen him move. He grabbed his captor's outstretched hand, pulled him towards him and right into a nasty punch in the face. Then he quickly pushed the stunned man back with a vicious uppercut to the chin. After that he took no chances. He leapt from the couch, jumped over his captor's prone form and ran out the front of the house.

The Impala was in the driveway, black paint glittering in the sunlight, waiting for him. He didn't even know where he got his keys from or where he was but his flight or fight instincts had taken over and he didn't care. He had to get away. Get away from his captor before he came to and came after him.

Dean jumped into the driver's seat of the classic car, turned it on and pulled out of the driveway. He wouldn't be here when his captor woke up.

---

Back in Missouri's house there was chaos. Sam was just being roused by his father while Missouri gave John a wad of tissues for Sam's bleeding, possibly broken nose. John was confused and therefore furious and as Sam came into his own and realized his brother wasn't there, he was becoming panicked.

"Dean? Where's Dean?" Sam asked.

"Missouri what the hell happened?!" John demanded over Sam's panicked question.

"Damn that boy and his stubborn Winchester genes." Missouri muttered under her breath. She had been meaning to talk to Dean about what had happened to her bathroom mirror. However his manner about that subject was clearly hostile and she had figured it would be best to just leave it until he was more stable and recovered. Now she was kicking herself up the butt. She should have acted while she had the chance. Since Dean's last flashback induced panic attack she had been worried something like this would happen again. She stopped her musings and saw Sam trying to get to his feet and stop the bloody gushing from his nose at the same time with little success and John trying to keep him seated.

"Missouri?" John asked again.

"Sam sit down before you hurt yourself." She snapped at the younger Winchester. He glared at her but she had to make him understand, "You'll do no good to Dean right now. He'll come back on his own. In the meantime we have a problem."

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Little cliffy for you there! And I hate to do this but I won't be able to update for around a week. Maybe a bit under if you're lucky because I'm going away on a short holiday and won't have any internet access. Please don't let this stop you from reviewing this chapter! Anyway guys until next time! 

Mishka xXx


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Hey guys! Back from my little holiday! It was my 18th birthday yesterday and I was going to update but I ended up getting home at like six in the morning from partying all night so I kinda just fell into bed. Then the document manager wasn't working and I only just got to upload this now. But anyway, thank you most beautiful people for the wonderful reviews and I hope this chapter is okay. I seem to think that these next chapters are not my best work but you may like it. Well I hope you do.

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_**Chapter Thirteen**_

"Ya think?" John drawled sarcastically.

Missouri glared at John but turned her attention to Sam when he spoke.

"Missouri what's happening to Dean?" he asked in a small voice.

"I was hoping that I would be wrong about this but apparently I'm not. That man who hurt you and your brother, his spirit has latched onto Dean."

Sam felt physically ill. Dean was being haunted, hurt by that freak who was supposed to be dead. God hadn't his brother been through enough?! Still it was more than possible, he was pretty sure that John hadn't gone back to salt and burn that bastard and he sure hadn't. His own words came back to bite him in the ass.

'_Killing others, killing themselves. Some people are just born tortured. So when they die, their spirits are just as dark.'_

How the hell could they have screwed up like that! And now Dean was suffering for it. A sudden thought occurred to Sam and he paled, "He saw that freak when he looked at me didn't he?" he asked the psychic, all the color visibly drained from his features. The blood standing out against his pale skin.

The psychic nodded solemnly.

John who had been quiet so far, came to a silent decision and nodded to himself. He moved Sam's hand up to his nose so he could hold the tissues himself and then he stood up. His eyes glittered dangerously with barely contained fury. No one fucked with his sons. Dead, alive or a mix of both. He was going to finish this bastard once and for all.

"Dad?" Sam asked quietly. He knew where his father was about to go but they had to wait for Dean. No, they weren't going to wait for Dean. They were going to find him. He was too unstable the be out there alone, driving no less, "We have to find him. He can't be alone like this." Sam stated.

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Dean drove around Lawrence aimlessly for an hour. Somewhere in his panic he had realized where he was. Lawrence, Kansas. Home. He had purposely avoided his old house, afraid it would bring him undone. Dean looked at his hands clasping the steering wheel. They had blood on them. Blood from his captor's nose. _Good. I hope it hurt like hell. I wish that hit could have made you feel all the pain I feel you fucking bastard!_

God what was he doing? His captor was dead. Sam had told him that and his little brother wouldn't lie to him about something so serious. Besides it was John who had saved them and he knew his father. The second the older hunter realized what that prick had done to his boys he would have put a bullet through his goddamned head. Hang on back up. Where the hell was Sam? And what the hell was he doing in Lawrence? Oh that's right. Staying with Missouri. With his brother and father. But then what was he doing here alone and where were they when that bastard tried to hurt him again?

"_Isn't that the million dollar question Deannie?"_ came the evil man's voice.

Dean slammed his foot on the breaks so hard he gave himself whiplash. He was lucky there was no car behind him or he would have been hit. Clenching his hands so tight on the steering wheel they hurt, Dean took a deep breath the steel his nerves before he turned and looked around the car. Passenger seat, empty. So was the back. He sighed in relief and shook his head. Great he was going insane. That's the last fucking thing he needed. But the car was empty.

"_Do you really believe that?"_ the voice came again.

This time when the young hunter looked around the car, his eyes glanced over the rearview mirror. In the reflection his attacker could be easily seen. Dead yet fierce eyes looked back at him. The man looked just how he had seen him last, if not a bit paler and with a distinctive gunshot hole to his forehead. Right between the eyes.

"No. You're not here. I knocked you out. My dad killed you. No." Dean denied pathetically.

"_Well technically you knocked your brother out. I think you broke little Sammy's nose."_ The voice laughed, _"But you're right. Your father did kill me. Still you of all people should know that just because my body is dead doesn't mean I'm going to stay dead in spirit."_

The vision of him hitting Sam flashed though his mind. Oh god he'd hit Sam! That was his baby brother's blood on his hands. He felt physically ill.

"_Although it was a pretty neat trick that wasn't it."_ The voice commented and Dean could see the sardonic smirk on that bastard's face.

A horn sounded behind him and he realized he was still sitting stationary in the middle of the road. When he looked back to the rearview mirror, his attacker wasn't there. Biting his lip Dean started driving again. Fuck, he just couldn't escape all this shit that had happened to him! Was continuing to happen to him. He longed for the weeks he had spent buried safe in his own mind. He was warm there. Safe. Happy. Why the hell did he have to 'wake up'?

Dean sped through the residential streets not caring. He wanted out. He didn't want to do this anymore. He wanted to be free. Free of it all. Not paying any attention to where he was heading. He pulled numbly into a parking space and cut the engine. Staring out into the park he realized that he recognized it. His parents had bought him to this park when he was younger. Before the fire had killed almost everything he had. God, it felt like a lifetime ago that he had played baseball with his dad while his mom had sat on a picnic rug smiling and laughing in happiness at her family.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself and push away his wayward thoughts Dean exited his Impala. He stopped at the boot and opened the secret compartment. From inside he grabbed his 9mm Glock. The gun's shiny silver surface twinkled invitingly up at him. Tucking it into the back of his jeans he made for the swing set. As he sat on the old seat of the swing he remembered his Mom pushing him so high he felt like he was flying. _Higher Mommy higher!_

A silent tear ran down his cheek. God he missed his Mom. It wasn't fair that she had been taken from him. It wasn't fair that the fun loving side of his father had been taken with her and replaced with a goddamned drill sergeant. No. He stopped that thought. His Dad had done the best for them that he could under the circumstances. Still he may have done the best he could but his 'Daddy' had died in the fire with his Mom.

"_Boo hoo. Grow up. You're pathetic you know. You should have died in that fire instead of Mary, instead of Jessica. Your father and Sam would be happy now. Complete. They wouldn't be lugging around a pitiable burden like you. You should be dead Dean." _The voice was back.

"Shut up." Dean growled as he rocked himself slowly on the swing, looking for some comfort.

"_Sammy's pretty hot you know. Even John has a certain average-Joe, blue collar American look working for him. Ruggedly handsome some would say."_ The voice said conversationally.

"You leave them out of this." Dean spat. How dare that fucking bastard even mention their names?! God if he wasn't dead Dean would track him down and burned a clip in him himself, just on principle alone.

Dean startled at the ghosting sensation of a hand across the back of his neck. He jumped off the swing and pulled out his gun, holding it in front of him, just like his old man had taught him. The feeling came back, this time grabbing his ass.

"_You think a ghost can fuck a person Deannie? Because I'd really like to take you for a ride right about now."_ His attacker moaned.

"Leave me the hell alone!" Dean yelled spinning around again, gun still raised but not knowing where to shoot. Dean felt a hand snake down the front of his pants and grab him. He gasped, his mind going back to that night, along with all the feelings he'd had. _No control. Couldn't stop it. Couldn't control it. Failed. Pathetic. Couldn't do anything._ The gun in his hand was shaking as he lowered it and something in him broke. He let out a quiet, "Please. Please don't do this. Not again. Please." Before he dropped to his knees, next to the swing he had played on as a child.

Dean didn't cry this time. His eyes stung with the unshed tears but he wouldn't let them fall. He stared at the gun in his hands thinking about the fully loaded clip inside. It was a familiar and comforting weight. Slowly, his arm shaking, Dean raised the gun and pointed it to his temple. He had had no choice then. He hadn't been in control. Now, however, he was in control. _This _time he had a choice.

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Yes a little cliffy, I just can't help my evil ways. More reviews I get, the quicker the update will be ;)

Mishka xXx


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Over 400 reviews!! Holy bloody crap! You guys are fucking awsome:) So, a new chapter for you. _**

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_**Chapter Fourteen**_

John and Sam jumped into John's truck and tore off down the road. John's knuckles were white around the steering wheel in barely contained fury. God, how the hell had he let this happen?! He was John fucking Winchester, a modern day Van Halsing for god's sake. He didn't make mistakes like this. Not when it came to the hunt and especially not when it came to the wellbeing of his boys. No, this had to end.

Sam looked at his father. The older man's jaw was clenched, knuckles white around the steering wheel and his eyes. Sam hadn't seen his father's eyes filled with so much anger since he had said he was leaving for College. Turning his head to look out the passenger window in search for Dean he spoke, "Do you know where he'll be?"

The older hunter shot the younger a quick look, "I have a fair idea." He replied. He knew his son wouldn't have gone to their old house. No, Dean would have gone somewhere were he thought he could be safe. Somewhere were he had been happy that wasn't tainted with fire.

John turned his big black pickup around a corner and drove a bit further up the road to the small park that he knew was there. Sam's breathing quickened as he spotted his brother's Impala. The next thing he saw however made his blood run cold. As John pulled into the parking space next to the Impala Sam saw Dean. His brother was on his knees slumped next to an old swing set, his silver gun clutched in his hand, pointed at his temple.

"Dean!" Sam tried to yell as he jumped out of the pickup, however his voice came out as a mere squeak. He ran quickly towards his brother but slowed his pace as he got near him, he didn't know what kind of mental state his brother would be in and if he startled the older hunter he could end up getting himself or his brother shot. Then again judging by the gun aimed at his head, Sam figured his brother's mental state wasn't too stable at the moment.

Sam could feel his Dad behind him. Taking a deep breath and making his voice as calm and non-threatening as possible Sam addressed his brother, "Dean?" when his brother didn't answer Sam turned pleading eyes to John. His father was there and the man always made everything alright again, _Dad will know what to do_. He would make this right too.

John caught Sam's pleading eye contact and his heart constricted more that it already was. He didn't know if he could make this right. He'd never, ever seen his oldest son so far off the edge before. Not even after Dean had locked himself away when Mary died. It was bloody terrifying, "Dean son, how about you put down the gun." John said calmly yet with a hint of an order in his tone.

Dean looked up, a dazed expression on his face as if he had just noticed them. Gun hand still shaking, making his father and brother worry he was going to accidentally pull the trigger, he laughed, "I have to end this, otherwise he'll use me to hurt you. I can't let anything hurt you." He said shakily, almost to himself.

"Dean nothing is going to hurt us. Okay? Just give me the gun and you me and Dad will go, and we'll burn this bastard's bones and send him back to hell. Come on, it's going to be alright, just give me the gun." Sam said and took a slow step forward.

"_Get rid of them and finish this Deannie or they'll be next. You don't want Sammy to be my bitch do you?_" the voice came again.

"You leave them the hell out of this." Dean growled back.

John and Sam shot a quick glance to each other. Apparently they weren't alone. And judging by what they had just heard Dean say, if they didn't do something quick this was going to end real fast, real bad.

"Dean ignore him. Give me the gun and no one will get hurt." Sam said and took another step forward until he was almost in reaching distance.

"Stat back!" Dean snapped, his finger pressing dangerously on the trigger making Sam and John halt instantly in their advance, "I need to do this don't you get it?" God why the hell didn't they get it?! He was trying to protect them. Damn it was all so confusing, he had them telling him one thing, the voice in his head telling him another and he didn't know what to do. Yes he did, it was easy, just pull the trigger and he'll have saved them and himself. It was a win-win situation, "I'm sorry."

John saw what his oldest was going to do a moment before he did it. He snapped into hunter mode and charged Dean, sending them sprawling to the ground as the gun went off. He heard Sam grunt and Dean cry out as his head hit the ground hard enough to knock him out. John straddled his son's hips, pinning him with his weight and held his wrists together tightly in one hand.

"Sam?" John asked, remembering hearing his son grunt as the gun went off.

"Yeah I'm okay. Just grazed me." He replied while holding the shoulder of his left arm. It was bleeding but it was just a flesh wound. It could have been a whole lot worse. His Dad might not have stopped Dean in time. Speaking of his Dad, man he'd never seen him move so fast. And that tackle, it was an honest surprise that his Dad wasn't a professional linebacker instead of a hunter.

The youngest Winchester crouched down next to the other two at took Dean's gun, quickly tucking it into the back of his pants and surveying the area to see if anyone had come to see what the gunshot was about. So far they were still the only ones in the park but that didn't mean anything, they had to get going. Now. He looked down at Dean's unconscious face, muscles all relaxed. Dean's temples unblemished just like they should be, no gunshot wound present. Thank god.

"Dad." Sam said quietly.

"I know. Help me get him up and into the Impala."

Together they carried the unconscious hunter and laid him out in the back of the Impala. As a precaution John got some rope from the trunk of the black beauty and bound his oldest son's wrists together, insuring that for the mean time he wouldn't hurt anybody, or himself. However if Dean wanted to get out of those ropes he would be able to do it, John having taught both his boys how when they were younger. The knots he had done however would be a bitch to get out of, ones that John himself had learnt at his time in the Marines, and they would be able to subdue Dean before he got out of them if it came to that. He hoped it wouldn't.

John went to his truck, pulled out some of his preferred weapons and things he thought he might need then locked it and hopped behind the wheel of the Impala. Sam sat in the passenger seat, constantly looking into the back as if to make sure that, yes Dean was still alive, he was still breathing. He pulled the heavy muscle car out of its parking spot and turned back onto the road, navigating the small Lawrence streets and back roads as if he had never left. Sam leant over into the backseat and found the first aid kit that they kept there. He took off his jacket and looked at the wound. It had already stopped bleeding, just a nick really. But still, safety first. So he put some antibiotic cream on it then wrapped it in gauze. It would do for now.

The drive to Missouri's had taken Sam just over five hours, however John drove like Dean. A regular speed hound. Sam had no worries that the drive would be made in at least half the time. For now though they had to figure out a plan. Sam didn't know if the body would still be there in the guy's house, rotting away or if the police had been called and the body found, buried somewhere. Dean had been their main concern, not that jerk. They had assumed it would be all over, that they could all get better and move on. They hadn't anticipated needing to go back there, to salt and burn the bastard.

Sam brought up his concerns about this to John who told Sam he'd already thought about it. They would stop by the house first, check to see if he was still there which John strongly doubted – because it was in the suburbs and the nosy neighbors would have heard the gunshot and if not seen the three of them emerge from the house then maybe the freak had friends who would check up on him - and if not get the police records of where he was buried. Of course neither of them knew the guys name. None of them had wanted to so they would have to find that out too if they were going to get his record and find where he was buried.

For the next twenty minutes the car's passengers were silent. The only noise being the low rumble of the V8 and the tires on the road. Each man lost in his own thoughts, steeling himself for what was to come. Because this was going to be different. It wasn't some person they had caught wind of, done the research and the salt and burned them; it was personal.

Thirty minutes into the trip a groan was heard from the backseat. Both John and Sam were broken from their thoughts and Sam turned to see Dean's eyelids flickering while John watched from the rearview mirror. Deciding that it would be safer, John pulled onto the side of the highway they had been traveling down so he could properly asses his son. It had been worrying both him and Sam that Dean had taken so long to regain consciousness. Now was the crunch time. They would find out what kind of Dean was waking up; the normal cocky one or the psychotic suicidal one.

Dean's head felt like lead. He tried to think back to what had caused it to feel that way and brought up a blank. Where the hell was he? Well wherever it was it felt safe, even if it was a bit cramped. He groaned as he tried to sit up, his senses coming back to him. he was moving and there was a familiar comforting throaty growl. The Impala. Seeing as sitting up had failed he opted for a simpler task; opening his eyes. Well at least it should have been simple, his eyelids felt like they weighed a fucking ton.

"Hey Dean? You with us?" a voice broke through his hazy mind and forced his eyelids to open. Yep he was defiantly in his car except now it wasn't moving anymore. The voice could belong to no one but his little brother, he'd recognize it anywhere. And sure enough, Sam's face was the next thing he saw. A little fuzzy but still Sam.

Dean reached up to try and rub away the fuzziness when he realized his hands were tied. Looking down he saw course ropes entwined tightly around his wrists. His memory chose that moment to snap back into place and give him a quick re-run of the events leading up until now. The hunt. The room. The torture. Missouri's. The park. God he didn't want to be tied up, it reminded him too much of what had happened to him and he didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to. Oh god someone just let him the fuck out of these ropes. He pulled desperately against them but in turn they only tightened.

"Dean. Son calm down. It's okay." John said when he noticed his son's breathing increase when he couldn't get the ropes off.

His father's deep voice calmed Dean down a little as did the strong, reassuring hand on his shoulder from Sam. He stopped pulling on the ropes and took in deep slow breaths to get himself back under control. He was safe. Sam and his Dad were there and nothing was going to happen to him. Besides if his memory was right then he wasn't surprised that he was tied up like he was.

"I don't know what came over me. I think I'm losing my mind." He whispered. He remembered a voice. Not just any voice but _that_ voice. The one that had belonged to his captor.

Sam couldn't stand hearing his big brother sound so unsure of himself, so lost. He leaned over the seat and gently took Dean's wrists in his and began to untie the rope, "You're not losing your mind Dean. He's haunting you. But we're going to fix it okay. We're going to salt and burn that bastard and send him straight to hell. Don't worry because it's all going to be fine." He said reassuringly.

Dean mulled this over for few moments before speaking again, "So we're going back?" he asked, eyes drifting from Sam to his Dad and back again.

"Yeah Dean, we're going back. But after this we're not stepping foot in that godforsaken town again." Sam said as he pulled the last of the rope free from Dean's wrists.

John watched silently. When the hell had his boys turned into men? God had he really missed that much? It was like one minute he could see Dean running around with his blond bowl cut and baby Sammy squirming in the crib watching his older brother with awe, and the next he blinked and now he could see his sons. His two strong, capable, tough as nails sons who were now men. God he was so proud of them. Of the bond they had and of them as individuals. He hoped to hell that they knew that.

"We good to go now?" he asked.

"Yes sir." Was the simultaneous reply from both brothers.

John nodded and pulled the car back onto the highway.

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Please please please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I love all feedback and it puts a nice big smile on my face :) 


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** WoW. We're finally here guys. This is the last chapter. Before anyone says anything, yes I know there is still the Epilogue which I'm currently writing. I get the feeling it's going to be pretty long as there will be a lot that needs to be wrapped up. I want to thank you all for your amazing support throughout this crazy story of mine and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I couldn't get it right when writing it so it's not my favourite exactly, but please don't let that cloud your opinion of it. I was going to post this later tonight but I've woken up sick and I needed something to cheer me up so please, review!

**WARNINGS:** Ha, as if I would be able to leave this without more warnings. There's disturbing content and some adult themes.

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_**Chapter Fifteen **_

It turned out Sam was right. Apparently the guys 'friends' had found the body when he hadn't made contact with them in a few days. Turned out the guy was a real good Samaritan. Ha! Like hell someone could do things so sick and twisted and be a good person. But yes, he had been found and buried.

Right now Sam and Dean sat in the Impala around the corner from the local Police Station while John was in there getting the records of which cemetery he was in.

Sam sat leaning his chest against the front seat with his arms hanging in the back so he could face Dean. Dean was half lying and half sitting across the backseat, leaning against the side back door with his arms crossed over his chest and a pensive look on his face.

"What ya thinking?" Sam asked. Dean had been quiet most of the trip since he had woken up Sam was worried that his older brother was thinking himself into a hole. All that internal reflection which Sam assumed Dean was doing couldn't be good for him. Besides, a quiet Dean was never a good Dean.

Dean ignored the question for a few moments before he looked up and made eye contact with Sam. Sam had his puppy eyed worried face on, the one that insured he would get an answer out of his brother, "How fucked up our lives are." He replied evenly.

Sam stared at Dean for a few seconds digesting his answer before a smile spread across his face and he busted out laughing. Dean just stared at his little brother gasping for breath laughing before he too joined in. It's not like the comment was meant to be funny or anything but in the darkness of their present situation they would take what they could get. And for Dean it was either laugh, or cry. Really no choice there.

Soon both boys were gasping for air and tears of laughter running down their cheeks. That was how John found his boys as he approached the car while stuffing the burial record into his jackets inside pocket. He hopped into the driver's seat and just stared at his sons as if they had both grown another head, and wondered what he had missed. Still it brought a ghost of a smile to his face to hear his boys laughing. He hadn't heard Dean laugh in so long it almost sounded foreign.

John waited patiently for the laughter to die down before asking a quick, "You boys right now?"

"Yes sir." came from both.

"Good." John said then pulled the car onto the main road.

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By the time the Winchesters reached the graveyard the sun was setting. The sky was cast in vibrant purples and reds and had John thinking of Mary. His beautiful Mary had always had a love for the wonders of nature and would have appreciated a sunset like this one.

Sam looked through the windshield to the graveyard in front of them. Was this something that Dean should be doing? His brother was teetering on an edge and they all knew it. God he hoped that this wasn't what pushed him over. Actually he didn't want his brother to even be on an edge let alone go over it! He turned in his seat to face Dean who was staring at the graveyard looking pale. They all knew that once the ghost realized that they were going to destroy it that things were going to get bad. Especially for Dean.

"Do you want to wait in the car?" Sam asked his brother nervously.

Dean shook his head and swallowed, "This is my problem, I have to fix this." He stated then got out of the car and headed towards the graves.

Sam and John gave each other a meaningful look before exiting the Impala and following Dean. The middle Winchester was not at the top of his game right now and Sam and John were going to have to step it up.

Dean walked through the rows of graves, head down and eyes narrowed. He could do this. Just a salt and burn. He chuckled under his breath. When the fuck was it ever _just_ a salt and burn. No, this one would be harder. This one was personal. His stomach twisted in knots when he found the grave. He stared at the tombstone, unconsciously clenching his hands into fists.

_G Jones_

_1968 – 2006_

_Loved in life, missed in death_

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder and turned to see his brother standing behind him with a concerned expression. Dean couldn't love his brother more than in that moment. Sam wasn't Sammy right then. He was Sam, an adult. A caring, concerned and beautiful being. He was lending his strength to Dean and Dean could never put in words how much that meant to him. He nodded his head and stepped back giving his father and brother room to dig.

Dean sat on the ground opposite, back leaning against someone else's tombstone as he watched his family work. Sam and John's digging was fast yet precise. They wanted this over. Hell he did too. He didn't like being this weak. This pathetic. He was Dean Winchester, he was a fucking rock for god's sake! No, this would end and it would end tonight.

"_I see you're letting everyone else do the work. How pathetic. Can't even dig a grave?"_ the voice was back.

Dean closed his eyes and ignored it. It was just this bastard fucking with his head.

"_Don't worry Deannie. You have other talents. You're a good fuck for one." _It laughed.

"Shut up." Dean hissed and closed his eyes tighter. His only answer was the feeling of a hand snaking down the front of his pants and grabbing him tightly. The hunter's eyes snapped open and he jumped up off the ground with a yelped, "Stop it!"

"Dad!" Sam said in reaction to his brother.

John didn't pause in his digging. They needed to get this done. It was the only way to stop it, "Keep digging Sam." he ordered.

Sam nodded and picked up his pace. There was nothing he could do for Dean right now except for what he was doing. They were almost there. Maybe another foot or two.

"_You're ass is mine bitch!"_ was growled into Dean's ear. He flinched at the ghosting feel of breath over his neck. Something inside him snapped.

"Get the fuck off me! Just leave me the fuck alone you fucking bastard!" he screamed, eyes wild and spittle flying from his mouth in rage. No fucking more. He'd had it.

There was the sound of laugher and clapping then, _"There's the Dean I know and love! Well, love to break. Think I can do it again? Remember last time what happened when you challenged me! Let's try another way."_

Sam turned to his brother when Dean yelled. His brother was furious but he felt a smile tug at his lips. That was his Dean. Not taking shit from anyone. He just hoped it would last. The next thing Sam knew he felt a tingling sensation in his chest which spread across his whole body. He heard a voice, as if carried by the wind whisper in his ear. His blood ran cold as he recognized it as the man whose grave his was digging up, _"You will see. You will feel. You will know."_ He didn't have enough time to try and make sense of the words before the tingling exploded into a white hot pain covering ever inch of his body. He thought he let out a strangled scream and pitched forward to the ground but he couldn't be sure.

All Sam knew was the images and feelings that ran through him. They didn't belong to him. They belonged to his brother. He saw images from the time of their capture but from Dean's perspective. He experienced all of the pain brought upon by the physical injuries Dean had received but that was nothing compared to Dean's feelings over and through the entire thing. The hurt, the fear, the helplessness and pain. He couldn't breathe and thought he would die. Jesus! Was this what his brother had been feeling? Was this how he still felt? The thought alone pushed whatever little bit of oxygen he had managed to hold onto from his lungs._ You will see. You will feel. You will know._ And fuck if he didn't! It was all too much, pressing in on him from all angles. His chest hurt, his head felt as if it would explode and he couldn't hold onto consciousness anymore.

Dean turned when he heard his brother's agonized scream. He saw Sam pitch forward and John catch him and lower him gently to the ground. Dean ran the short distance to his brother and skid to the ground. John looked confused, helpless and scared and he knew that he was mirroring that expression perfectly. He grasped Sam's face and winced at the look of unadulterated pain there.

"Sam! Come on man don't do this. Sam, can you heard me?" he half yelled. Sam didn't even bat an eye. His kid brother remained unresponsive. Dean saw John reach for Sam's wrist and find his pulse. He looked at his father expectantly.

"His heart's racing. Help me move him." John ordered. The oldest Winchester put his hands under his youngest's armpits and lifted him out of the grave with help from his oldest. They laid Sam on the ground a few feet from the open grave and John took his pulse again. It was slower and he realized Sam had lost consciousness. He looked up from his son's lax face to Dean and opened his mouth to tell Dean they had to finish digging and that Sam would be fine, but before he could the words out he was lifted off the ground by an invisible force and thrown backwards a good twenty-five feet before being brought to an abrupt stop when his connected with a gravestone. His head hit the cement and he was knocked out. His last clear thought being_ Go get him son_.

"No!" Dean screamed when his father was taken away from him. He looked wide eyed from his father to Sam and back again. He checked Sam's vitals ensuring that his little brother was okay and then went to check his father's vitals. Pulse and breathing, check. Although he was worried by John's right arm. It was bent at an obscure angle, obviously broken. He was just about to try and rouse his father when he heard it again.

"_You know this whole ghost thing is pretty cool." _it chuckled before turning stern, _"Step away from him Dean and walk to my grave. I will not hurt Sam or John if you do as I say." _

Dean nodded somberly and got to his feet. Half of his mind was trying desperately to come up with a plan to toast this bastard while the other half gave up. _Do what he says. You're pathetic and useless anyway and all of this is your fault. Like he said, all you're good for is a good fuck._ Dean shook his head. No, he had to stop thinking like that and come up with a plan. His father and brother's digging had reached the coffin, he could see a small patch of the dark wood from under the black dirt. If he could just-

"_Take off your clothes."_

The middle Winchester's thoughts were broken into and he looked up into the eyes of his attacker. He gasped in shock and took a step back. Apparently his little ghost 'friend' had figured out how to make itself semi corporal. Not good! It was smiling at him, lips curled up into a wicked grin and eyes so cold and lusting they sent a shiver down Dean's spine.

"_Take off your clothes."_ It repeated.

Dean shook his head. He couldn't do this again. He just couldn't.

The ghost in front of him shrugged its shoulders, _"Ok. You get to pick then Deannie. Who dies first? Sammy or Daddy?"_

"No!" Dean half yelled and put his hands up in a sign of surrender, "Ok, I'll do it. Jus- Just don't hurt them." The ghost nodded and waited as Dean took his time taking his clothes off. First his jacket and t-shirts, then his shoes and pants. Each article of clothing taking a bit of his fight and soul with it. Sam and his father were out cold, he was on his own.

A cold gust of wind made the hairs on his body stand on end and he wrapped his arms around his scared frame, trying to ward off the cold that was more inside him than out. He looked at his unconscious brother and father in the dim moonlight and knew he would do anything for them. Even this.

"_I said your clothes Deannie. You can't really be that stupid can you to not understand? I want it all off, that includes your boxers. Now!"_

Dean reached down with shaking hands and hesitantly took off his last piece of clothing, giving up the security it provided. He didn't know how the hell any of this was going to work and even trying to figure it our made his skin crawl. He didn't want to know. All he knew was that it wasn't going to be fun.

"_Get in the grave."_

The middle hunter looked up at that. What the fuck?! Get in the grave? When the ghost moved threateningly towards his younger brother he didn't hesitate in lowering himself into the open grave.

"_Good boy. Such a good little slut aren't you." _The ghost rubbed its hands over Dean's naked skin, trailing down until it was stroking him, _"You were my first real break you know."_ It said conversationally, _"Oh sure there were more before you. Many more. I broke them just as I did you, but you were by far the strongest. They only lasted a few hours if that. I'd kill them after I grew bored with them. I was going to kill you too. I was trying to figure out if I should kill you or your brother first when your bastard father killed me." _The ghost laughed as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world then continued, _"The police never found the bodies, the families never got closure. I remember this one girl. She was about sixrteen. I fucked that little bitch for two days straight then cut her head off. Should have seen the mess it made on my floor."_

Dean tried not to listen to what the bastard in front of him was saying. His body was responding to the ghost's ministrations and bile was rising in his throat. _Traitor._ How could he react this way?! He was disgusted and embarrassed with himself. He wondered how many innocent people the guy had tortured and killed before his father put a bullet in his head.

"_There was also an thirteen year old boy I took off his mother. Don't you just love a child's innocence? It tasted so good. I cut him up real nice. But you're still my favourite. Best fuck I ever had."_

The ghost pushed Dean forward and the hunter fell to his hands and knees. _Nonononono!_ His breath came in short fearful gasps. He couldn't do this. He closed his eyes and felt his hand brush against something hard and cold. He could barely make out what I was in the moonlight but when he did hope sparked in his heart. The shotgun. His fucking shotgun filled with rock salt! He almost laughed he was so happy. He hadn't been able to fight it then, too beat to hell to even move. This time he had a weapon that would get rid of his problem. Well long enough to break open the coffin and roast the bastard. He felt a dreadfully familiar weight press up against him but instead of submitting he moved forward out of the ghosts reach, grabbed the gun, rolled onto his back and fired at the ghost.

An unholy screech filled the air as the rock salt blasted the ghost apart. Dean wasted no time in jumping up and out of the grave. He grabbed the salt, lighter fluid and a shovel and jumped back into the grave. He quickly hit the coffin with the shovel and moved it apart, breaking open the top. The hairs on the back of his neck rose up in warning and he grabbed the gun, trusting his finely tuned instincts and turned and fired at the ghost who had been just behind him.

Dean jumped out of the grave and covered the corpse in salt and lighter fluid. He lit his Zippo and was just about to toss it into the open grave when the ghost of the person he hated most in the world appeared across from him on the other side of the grave. He looked into its eyes defiantly and smirked, "I win Casper." He said and dropped the lighter into the coffin. The flame caught on the lighter fluid and went up with a big whoosh.

The ghost let out an evil ear piercing scream as it was destroyed painfully. Dean moved back from the hot flames and collapsed to his knees, tears of relief and happiness in his eyes. It was over. It was finally over.

* * *

Well there you have it. Please let me know what you thought. Was it what you were expecting or a let down? The chick-flick moment between the boys (yes there will be one of course :P) will be in the Epilogue as will a whole bunch of other stuff. It's taking me sometime to write it (a lot of loose ends to tie up obviously) but I'm trying my hardest to get it to you guys as soon as I can. Things over here are hectic as hell but I will get it done! Please review! All feedback is welcomed with open arms and treasured dearly. Until next time guys. 

Mishka xXx


	16. Epilogue

**A/N: **Hey guys! I am so so so sorry about the lateness in posting this! I feel so bad but due to a long list of bad luck on my side, like Glandular Fever, alerts being down, document manager going AWOL and school going crazy just to name a few, it's just worked out this way. I hope that the length of this will help to make it up.

I had so many things I wanted to say in this A/N and for the life of me I've just gone blank. But I will say this, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has read and or reviewed this. It means more to me than you will ever know and I cannot put in words how uplifting it was to receive all of that encouragement and support.

So without keeping you waiting any longer; The Epilogue.

_**

* * *

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**_Epilogue_**

Dean didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the open grave and the bright orange flames coming out of it. Eventually his eyes blinked slowly and he seemed to come back into his surroundings. He looked over at his brother and father who still hadn't moved where they lay. He got to his feet and threw his boxer shorts on before he made a quick dash to where he and John had laid Sam.

He ghosted his hands over his little brother, afraid to touch him in case of injuries. He didn't even know why Sam ham been knocked out but it didn't really take a genius to figure out that it had something to do with that bastard. _Who's now toast and burning in hell._ The thought brought a small smile to his face, "Sam? Sammy wake up." He said as he shook Sam's shoulder a little. When Sam didn't so much as flinch, he repeated himself louder and shook a little harder making Sam's brow crease.

"Dean?" Sam mumbled, his voice a little scratchy as he came to.

"Oh thank god." Dean sighed in relief as he helped Sam up into a sitting position, "Are you okay? What did he do to you?"

"I, I don't-" Sam started before bits and pieces came back to him. He couldn't feel the physical, it had faded out with his consciousness but an echo of the emotional pain Dean had been and was suffering was still imprinted on him. And if he just had an echo, then Dean. How the hell was his brother still standing?! "How do you do it?" he asked with tears in his eyes.

"Do what?" Dean asked, his brow creased.

"He did something to me. I," Sam paused. Did he really want to let Dean know he knew what he was feeling? Did he want to put that on his brother? He cleared his throat, "Nothing. Where's Dad?" Sam asked trying to change the subject and get his brother's mind off of him for the moment. Because he could tell Dean didn't believe him and the last thing he wanted was Dean prodding to find out what happened.

Dean gave Sam a quick once over before running over to his father. John lay still out cold, arm bent at an obscure angle. By the time Dean had assessed John's injury as much as he could and tried to rouse the unconscious hunter, Sam was standing behind him, "We need to get him to a hospital. This arm is broken. I think he might have a concussion."

---

The Doctors at the hospital thought so too. After they carried John and put him in the Impala, ever mindful of his arm, they quickly refilled the grave and grabbed their stuff before driving to the closest hospital. John was whisked away into the ER. Two hours or so later the boys were sitting by their father's bedside listening as a certain Dr Simmons told them that the oldest Winchester, err Walker, had a mild concussion, a broken arm and that it must have been some fall down those stairs. She was also surprised to see Dean again. Not to mention talking and touching. She also gave Sam a once over much to his annoyance but his brother's insistence. After the Dr declared Sam to be perfectly healthy and left the room the brother's sat watching as their father slept off the pain meds the staff had insisted on while they reset his arm.

"That was my Doctor?" Dean asked Sam to break the silence.

Sam nodded, "Yeah I was going to tell you. Guess I just forgot with everything that was going on. You think she's related to Gene?" he smiled.

Dean looked at Sam like he'd grown another head, "Who are you and what have you done with my baby brother?"

"Hey. I know, rock people." He tried to keep a straight face as Dean chuckled beside him.

"Sure you do Justin." Dean sniggered.

"Hey! Justin's new album is awesome thank you very much." Sam said indignantly.

"Yeah, whatever Bitch."

"Shut up Jerk."

The brothers sat in a comfortable silence for the next three hours it took for John to come out of his drug induced sleep.

Dean was thinking about everything that had happened to them to get them here now. He was coming to terms with it. Well as much as anyone could. Knowing that his family was safe now and that bastard was burning in Hell. Burning in hell, yeah that had a nice ring to it. The thought brought a smile to his face.

He looked down at his father and was met with open piercing green eyes, "Hey Dad." He greeted.

Dean saw Sam look up from his own thoughts and direct his gaze to their father.

John looked around him for a second, checking his surroundings and giving his youngest a once over then looked back at his oldest, "What happened?" he asked, voice gravelly.

"We got him." Dean said like it didn't mean anything.

Sam snorted at his brother's off handedness, "Yeah Dean got him while our lazy asses were sleeping." He smiled and nudged Dean's shoulder gently with his elbow to punctuate his point.

Dean smiled weakly at his brother's attempts to lighten the mood. He wished Sam wouldn't. He just wanted his whole thing to go away and be done with. To be forgotten.

"Good." John said, internally breathing a sign of relief and a _well done son_ before he started to maneuver himself out of the bed.

Sam and Dean stood up to give John room and Dean put out his hands to steady his father when the older man swayed a little on his feet, "You sure you should be up so soon Dad? You have a concussion and you broke your arm you know." Dean said as he held John's elbow until his father regained his balance.

"Yeah. We need to get out of here before the insurance company comes to bite us on the ass. Sam get my clothes, Dean go get the AMA forms. We're leaving." John ordered.

---

Two days later the Winchester men were back in Lawrence at Missouri's house. The place had been rather quiet since they had returned and no matter what Missouri did to try and lighten the mood between the family it just didn't work.

She knew they were all up to something. She knew that Sam was thinking up ways to try and make Dean talk to him and John, well John was planning to leave. The main threat was gone now and she knew he was itching to get back onto the trail of The Demon. She'd get out her wooden spoon and smack that man if she thought it would make any difference. But it wouldn't and she knew that. John Winchester the father was in the process of being put away while John Winchester the hunter was taking over again.

And last but not least was Dean. He was trying so hard to hold all of his emotions in and forget the whole ordeal. She could see it in him, the need to be the old Dean again. The Dean that he thought his family expected him to be. But he couldn't, not yet. And all this trying, it was going to kill him.

She was just waiting for the ball to drop.

---

Sam sat in Missouri's lounge room looking out the window and watching his brother work on the Impala. He'd realized years ago that working on the car was his brother's failsafe. It's what he did when he couldn't deal with what was going on around him. He focuses his whole mind onto a set task and ignored his problems until they went away. Which of course never happened so it was usually until they were bottled up inside him.

"Sam?" John's voice asked and broke Sam's musings.

The youngest Winchester looked up and at his father. The older hunter had a clean white cast on his right arm being held up by a sling. He looked tired and a little nervous though Sam doubted anyone but him or Dean could see through the tough and cold façade that his father had put up around himself. Sam felt his stomach drop. Why the hell would his father be looking nervous? Unless, "You're leaving aren't you?" he asked, tone deceptively calm, hiding the anger that was building under the surface.

"Yeah, I am." John replied.

"What about Dean?" Sam asked angrily.

"You're brother will be fine." John replied tiredly. He knew that having this convocation was going to be like this. His youngest was as bull headed as he was and he knew that Sam didn't want him to go. Neither of his boys would. But he had to, he'd been away from the hunt too long, away from his trail of The Demon.

"How can you just say that? Dean's not fine! And he's not going to be unless we're all there to help him!" Sam cried indignantly. He needed to make his father see. He couldn't fix Dean alone. They needed him! He needed him.

"Sam, this isn't a discussion. Dean _will_ be fine." The unsaid _he has to be_ hung in the air between them.

"You're leaving to hunt The Demon right?" somehow it would hurt less if John was leaving to hunt The Demon and not just to leave his boys. But still, why the hell couldn't his father ever put his family before the hunt?!

"I was close Sam. And I can't afford to let the trail get anymore cold." The older hunter said trying to make his son understand.

"Fine. But you're going to be the one to tell Dean that you're leaving." It was said hoping that the prospect of John having to tell his son that he was leaving them, abandoning them, would give John cold feet and make him stay. He was just so tired and he wasn't sure if he could do this own his own. He looked out the window at Dean again. His brother was still working on the car and his anger deflated.

_Damn!_ John thought. His son sure knew how to play dirty. He could have sworn he felt himself pale at the thought of telling his oldest that he was leaving him. John knew Dean's greatest fear was being left alone. A fear born out of the same fire that took their Mary. The oldest Winchester was broken from his thoughts by his son's voice.

"Thank you." Sam said. It had occurred to him that he hadn't even thanked his father for dropping the hunt and coming to get them and even though John was going to leave now he knew that his father had done his best. Besides, he knew that eventually the call of the hunt would be too much for John to resist. It was the same with Dean. They both couldn't stay in once place for too long without killing something evil.

"For what?" John asked confused at his son's change in demeanor.

"For saving us and for being here. It means a lot." Sam answered quietly, yet he kept solid eye contact with his old man.

John simply nodded. His eyes saying more than he ever could. This moment was getting to chick flick for him and while Sam had always worn his heart on his sleeve, well, John had always been more like Dean. They both hid their emotions behind a façade. It was like a protective outer layer. They couldn't let their real feelings show for more than a few minutes or it would all come crashing down. Sometimes he wished his oldest wasn't so like him, that he was more like his brother in that regard. Maybe then this whole ordeal could be easier on him. Instead of bottling his emotions he could have talked and got them out into the air. Like draining the poison from a snake bite. But he knew that wasn't going to be the way. So instead he turned to Sam with the ghost of a smile, "I'll be seeing you. Call if you need me." Before he turned and left.

The oldest Winchester paused at the doorway and reached into his coat pocket then pulled out a fairly decent roll of money tied with elastic bands then tossed it to his youngest. Sam caught the money and looked at it. It was enough to keep them afloat for the next two months, maybe more if they spread it. He looked back up to his Dad, about to tell him that he couldn't take the money when John spoke, "It should be enough to keep you guys going until you're ready to get back to the hunt." He said.

Sam nodded his thanks with watery eyes and put the money in his pocket. There was the implied _don't rush yourselves _and _this way you wont have to hustle for awhile_ and it meant a lot to him, even if John hadn't voiced the words himself. John lifted the corner of his mouth into a half smile and then left.

Now came the hard part. Telling Dean.

---

Dean stood looking under the hood of his Impala at the big block V8. His girl had kept him occupied and safe for the last two days. But then again, when didn't she? Eight cylinders of brutal raw power, paint as black as a demon's eyes and duco so shiny you could see yourself and the rest of the world in her reflection. She was a black beauty. The only home he'd ever really known and the love of his life. She was the only girl for him.

He tensed slightly as he heard footsteps approaching but then relaxed when he recognized them as his fathers. Not looking up from under the hood he spoke to his father, "Hand me that spanner." He half asked and then took the tool from his father and tweaked a few parts of the motor.

"Dean." John said trying to get his son's attention. When all he was met with was a grunt he resorted back to his marine voice, "Dean, stop playing with the car and look at me for a minute." He snapped then felt instantly bad as his son did what was demanded accompanied with a dear in the headlights look at his father's tone. He couldn't tell his son he was leaving, not while Dean was looking at him like that. So lost, but trying to hold it all together at the same time. God, his strong little soldier. He felt like saying 'Stand down Dean, it's okay, you can stand down now' but he wouldn't. So, let's try something else, "How's the Impala?" small talk. Small talk was good. He could do this then work his way up to telling Dean he was leaving.

Dean looked at him suspiciously for a second before adverting his gaze back to his girl, "She's doing fine. I'm thinking I might go into town today. Just for a drive you know." Dean said.

"Yeah." John agreed.

There was an awkward silence after that for a few moments then, "Dad what's going on?" when the tension in the air became to much.

John didn't say anything for a moment while he tried to figure out the best way to say it. In the end he decided the direct approach would have to do, "I'm leaving."

Dean couldn't keep the flinch that his father's words caused. He tried to school his features to remain impassive but he couldn't stop his eyes from showing the sudden loss, fear and angst that he felt. His father couldn't go. They were finally all together, they were being a family. Even if they were different than the last time they had all been together. And even if the circumstances to get them all together had been shit. But he knew he couldn't voice that. Probably never would be able to. So instead he did what he knew he was expected to do. He forced down his emotions, his weaknesses and asked, "When?" his tone not betraying his inner turmoil.

"Tonight." John answered. As if he hadn't just seen his son for down more pain. He wondered how long it would be until Dean couldn't take it all anymore and internally shuddered at the thought for that day.

Dean nodded and they both knew this would be their goodbye. Winchester's weren't good at goodbyes and so what they said now would be what they remembered as their farewells.

"Take care of yourself son, and watch out for Sammy." Dean nodded and John stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his oldest in a strong embrace. The two stood like that for some time before they both mutually separated, "If you need me Dean, call me." John said.

"Yessir." Dean answered and then watched as his father turned and walked back into Missouri's house. Dean sighed and turned back to his car, "At least you won't ever leave me will you baby." He mumbled to himself as he caressed the side of the car lovingly. He picked up the spanner that he had put down and got back to work, ignoring the glances he could see his little brother shooting him from the front window of the house. Someone needed to teach that boy not to be so obvious about his spying.

---

John stayed conveniently absent and busy for the rest of the day. Dean continued working on the Impala. Sam pottered around the house looking through Missouri's books and keeping an eye on Dean. Missouri herself spent the day working in her garden, planting new plants and pulling out the stray weed.

Dinner was a subdued event but rather peaceful, everyone caught in their own thoughts. Dean excused himself early and went upstairs to lay down. He just wasn't hungry. The thought of food made him feel sick and he really didn't want to be around people at the moment, even if they were his family. He was content to wallow in his self pity.

An hour or two later Sam went to bed, shooting his father a glance that half said _wish you would stay with us_ and _be careful_. When he reached the upstairs room he and Dean had been sharing he found his brother asleep on the double bed with his back against the wall. Well, old habits die hard he guessed. Still, it shot a pang through his heart. He needed to make Dean talk to him.

Sam changed into a pair of boxer shorts and an old Metallica t-shirt which Dean had given him years ago and slipped into bed. It wasn't long before he drifted off into to sleep. After all, sleep was an escape from how fucked up their lives were at this point. Unless of course it was filled with the nightmares that liked to frequent his slumber.

Sometime in the middle of the night both Sam and Dean were awoken by the sound of their father's truck starting up and pulling away. Neither said anything, just pretended they didn't know the other was awake, and laid there for most of the night. Each lost in their own thoughts of what had happened, what was happening and what was going to happen. They couldn't stay at Missouri's forever and they both knew it.

---

Sam woke up to Dean packing his duffle bag in the corner of their room. He sat up hazily, the cot creaking, and rubbed the grit out of his eyes, "What's up?" he asked even though he already knew the answer.

"The sky." Dean joked lamely. Then he cleared his throat and went back to packing, "I was looking through the newspapers and I found something that might be up our alley."

"You sure you're ready to start hunting again? I mean after everything and all- we can stay here a bit longer if you want. I'm sure Missouri won't mind." Sam tried. He didn't think that Dean was ready to be hunting again. Not so soon after everything that had happened. But then again, maybe it would do some good, for both of them. Getting back into their hunting routine. Something easy could be good.

"Sam, this is my job. It's what I know how to do it and I'm not going to stop just because of some fucked up shit that's happened. It's time to move on." Dean said, almost tiredly.

Sam nodded then got out from under his nice warm covers and stood, grabbing some clothes and his duffle, "So what is it and where?" he asked as he too began to pack.

---

Dean threw his duffle into the trunk of the Impala along with his brother's. Sam was standing on Missouri's doorstep talking with the psychic in hushed tones. Probably about him. God he was so sick of being the topic of convocation and everyone's worry. That's why he had insisted that they take this hunt. That way they could focus solely on the job and not on him for once. Why couldn't everyone just forget what had happened to him damn it! He was over it. Dean snorted to himself. No he wasn't over it. That was a complete and utter fucking lie. He'd just repressed it was all. And he hadn't done a very good job at that. It was constantly sitting below the surface waiting until he let a fracture in his façade show then it was all going to come pouring out.

He shook his head trying to clear his morose thoughts and looked back up at Missouri's home to see Sam leaning down to embrace the shorter woman. He watched Sam say something else to her then come down the few steps and the pathway to meet Dean at the car.

Sam lent against the side of the car next to Dean, their shoulders just brushing, "You know she wants to speak to you don't you?"

"Yeah I know." Dean exhaled then pushed forward off the car and walked up the steps to stand in front of Missouri, "Hey Missouri."

"Dean." The psychic greeted back. There was an awkward pause and then, "You're a strong man Dean. Don't let anyone ever tell you different." She said after opening herself to the vibes and surface thoughts coming from the young man in front of her. She had to make sure that he understood just how important he was. How strong he was. Still Missouri was a rational person and she knew that she probably wasn't going to scratch the surface of Dean's insecurities. That's why she'd told Sam that he had to or it was going to eat his brother from the inside out.

Dean didn't know what to say to his friend's kind words. So instead he said nothing and let a slight nod suffice as his answer. Uncomfortable with the subject being on him he decided to change it. No way was he going to take part in chick flick moment with Missouri of all people, "Thanks for letting us stay here Missouri, we really appreciate it."

"Nonsense," Missouri scoffed, "You boys are welcome around here anytime you please. I told you, don't be strangers." She smiled brightly at him, "Now come here!" the psychic ordered him with her arms wide open gesturing for a hug.

The middle Winchester leaned down and embraced his friend tightly. Grateful to her for all of the help she had given them, him. Dean pulled back first. He wanted to leave before things got any more awkward so he bade his goodbye, "See ya Missouri, take care of yourself."

Missouri nodded and watched Dean walk down her front path to his car. He and Sam got inside and waved as they pulled away, "You take care of yourselves too boys." She whispered then walked back inside her house.

---

The Winchester boys drove for hours across the country, only stopping for lunch and fuel until it the sky was black and they were both starting to get cabin fever.

It was somewhere near Wyoming when Dean decided it was time to get a motel, call it a night. He pulled the big black car up next to the office then got up and looked over at Sam who had fallen asleep an hour or two ago. He shook his head slightly with a small smile turning the corners of his mouth up. Sam was leant up against the door, head against the window, eyes covered by shaggy brown bangs and mouth open slightly with a small trail of drool appearing in one corner.

Dean got out of the car then walked into the office to see a young obviously blind woman sitting at the desk, eyes open but vacant and running her fingers over the large book in front of her. Brail. There was a huge German Shepherd laying on the floor next to the desk, front paws crossed and head resting over them, asleep. The bell that rang when the door opened made her look up and she smiled at where she thought Dean was standing. Dean moved towards the desk and leant slightly on it.

"Hey, you looking for a room?" she asked, her face angled towards Dean's chest.

"Yeah thanks. Two queens if you got them." He said and watched fascinated as she moved her hands over to the keyboard of the computer to her left and began touch typing.

"Sure. How long will you be staying for sir?" she asked.

"Just a night. You take credit?" he asked then when she nodded he handed her one of his many fraudulent credit cards. Dean noticed that she was actually quite attractive. Pieces of stray copper colored hair outlining her face and making her full lips and long eyelashes more noticeable. His attention was taken away from the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks when something cold and wet touched his hand. He looked down to see the large wolf like dog pushing his hand with its nose and demanding to be petted. Dean crouched down and scratched the dog behind the ears, "Beautiful dog." He told the girl who smiled proudly.

"Yeah he is. I know most people have Golden Retrievers but I've always had a thing for German Shepherds. Besides Hank here is as much my protector as my guide dog." She chuckled then reached to the wall behind her and felt along the hooks holding the keys until she had the right one then took the key and held it out in front of her with Dean's credit card, "There you go Mr Hetfield. If you need anything you know where to find me."

Dean stood up and took the items, "Call me Dean, and thanks."

"I'm Sophie." She introduced herself.

"Thanks Sophie. I'll see ya." He said then gave Hank another quick pat on the head then left the office, bell signaling his exit.

When Dean got back to the car he found Sam still asleep, the line of drool longer and he laughed out loud. The sound of his laughter woke the younger Winchester from his slumber and he sat up straight, "Dean where are we?" he asked the wiped his hand across his mouth and chin finding it wet with drool. Damn it.

"Motel." Dean answered simply then drove to his room and parked out front, "Come on, get your stuff." He got out of his car then went around to the back and got his duffle from the trunk. He unlocked the door to their room and stepped inside, threw his bag onto the closest bed and sank down next to it.

Sam did the same with the other bed and let out a sigh, "Were are we?" he asked.

"Near Wyoming."

"Oh, okay."

The brothers were silent for a moment then Dean sat up, "I feel like a beer." He said suddenly. It's like ten minutes ago he was ready to just crash for the next twenty hours and then all of a sudden he wanted to go out and get a drink. He wanted to get back out there, be with other people. He hadn't been out in public for what seemed like years and it was like an urge, a craving to go out. Besides he had to start somewhere, get back on the horse so to speak.

"What? Why?" Sam asked, his voice still sleep muffled.

"I dunno, I just do. You coming?" he asked as he got up and grabbed his jacket and the keys to the car and the room.

Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes. This was actually a big thing. Dean hadn't been out and interacting with other people since they had been attacked. This was a good thing. As far as Sam was concerned this was a step towards his brother's recovery. Just like that he was awake and standing up, "Sure. Only if you buy me one." He smirked.

"You drive a hard bargain Sammy but I'm sure I can work something out." Dean smiled, "Let's go."

Sam followed Dean out and into the car where they drove over to the front office. Dean got out and Sam trailed behind. The bell rang announcing their entrance to the girl behind the counter. Sam watched Dean walk confidently over to the desk, not intimidated at all by the giant dog. Sam however had always had a thing about dogs since he'd been bitten once when he was younger and they'd been staying in a caravan park. He'd never really gotten over it.

"Hey Sophie." Dean greeted the girl.

"Back again so soon Dean, is there something you need?" she asked.

"Yeah actually, you don't know where there's any good bars around here do you? My brother and I wanted to check out the local nightlife." Dean said smoothly.

"Well there's Burn which is a nightclub, mostly plays techno and it's where all the young people hang out. But you sound like you'd prefer something more biker by the sound of your car so there's Bill's which is a saloon. More laid back, pool, beer and such. They're both about a mile down the road to your left coming out of the office." Sophie supplied with a cheeky grin.

"Defiantly Bill's. Thanks Sophie."

"No problem, have fun guys."

---

Dean pulled the car into a parking space at Bill's next to a dark purple '69 Dodge. He made an appreciative noise then got out of his own car, unconsciously stroking the roof to let her know she was the only girl for him.

The place was the average Honky-Tonk bar common to the mid-America they were in. Dean squared his shoulders and walked up to the bar. He could here Johnny Cash playing on the jukebox and he smiled despite himself. Johnny Cash was his Dad's choice of music and hearing the strong voice and acoustic guitar brought memories of his childhood to him. Of being cooped up in the Impala for hours at a time with Sammy in the back and him riding shotgun and laughing along to 'A Boy Names Sue' or tapping his foot to 'Riders In The Sky'. He parked his ass on one of the stools situated at the bar near the end. He felt before he saw, Sam seat himself next to Dean. The older Winchester ordered two beers then swiveled around to watch the goings on of the bar.

There were a few couples dancing in the middle of the room, obviously the dance floor. Girls wearing short shorts and others wearing flowing skirts that went down to their knees where a little further cowboy boots started. The guys likewise seemed to take the cowboy theme seriously and wore cowboy boots and hats, swinging the girls around the floor. In the far left corner of the room stood a few lone pool tables. There were two guys who looked more like bikers than cowboys playing on one of the tables. Probably just some travelers like themselves. Still the whole place had a relaxed and fun atmosphere to it. Good place to just sit down and have a nice cool beer.

Dean turned to face his little brother, "You wanna play some pool?" he asked.

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. It'd been awhile since they'd played pool and to be truthful his skills had probably rusted out some by now. But then again, what was it that they always said? Just like riding a bike? He smiled, "Sure."

They made their way over to the pool tables and Dean racked the balls while Sam chalked the cues. Dean tossed the triangle aside, grabbed a cue, and sunk two balls on the break. The moment they dropped he cracked a satisfied smile, then quickly managed to school his features back into their normal smugness.

The brothers fell into a relaxed, fun and light game. Neither paying any attention to the small crowd of the few bikers from the other table and some of the local girls watching as they battled it out. Sam kept up with his brother and it was a close game near the end. Dean was on the black while Sam was still trying to sink his last colored ball which didn't seem to want to go in. The bastard, he decided he was going to test it for possession later.

"Black corner pocket." Dean stated confidently as he lent down to take the shot. The cue was a familiar weight in his hand. A weapon like any other he used. The feel of the polished wood as it slid over his skin, the tap of the chalked tip as it hit the white and the crack as the white hit the black sending it flying across the table and into the corner pocket. He stood up and grinned triumphantly at his little brother.

Sam smiled back, not really concerned about losing the game, just happy at seeing his brother so relaxed and carefree for the first time in a long time. Still appearances had to be kept, "Lucky shot." He said trying to act at least a little annoyed.

"You wish College Boy. Pure talent is more like it." Dean smiled as he raised his cold beer to his lips, taking a sip and letting the cool liquid run down his throat. He returned his beer to the table it had been resting on and looked around him noticing the crowd who were still standing around the two brothers waiting to see if they were going to play again. A tingle ran down his spine and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. All of a sudden it was if the walls were closing in on him. He'd done well but he needed to get out of the crowded saloon. Just get some air and regain his bearings.

A large hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped despite himself and spun around to see his little brother standing there with concern in his eyes.

"You okay Dean?" Sam asked, worry lacing his tone.

"Yeah. I'm good. I'm just gonna go outside and get some fresh air. You wanna rack the balls and I'll be right back. Give you a chance to redeem yourself Sammy Boy." Dean said, trying to make a joke out of his sudden claustrophobic-ness. He didn't wait for an answer before he turned on his heel and weaved his way through the crowd and out the front door.

As soon as Dean got inside he took a few deep breaths of the fresh night air. He moved away from the doorway and leant back on the wall just taking in the semi-quietness of the parking lot. He closed his eyes and stood there, just being. His eyes being closed made his other senses sharper and he faintly picked up the sound of whimpering. Not that of an animal that was for sure. He slowed his breathing more trying to hone in on the sound when all of a sudden the door to the bar opened and out came one of the girls he had seen standing and watching him play pool with his brother.

She walked over to where he was standing, taking a packet of cigarettes out of her handbag then lit one up. She inhaled deeply then on the exhale she noticed Dean where he was standing, "You want one?" she asked pointing the packet towards him.

Dean shook his head, "No thanks. I'm good." He declined.

"Yes you are. I saw you're game before. You've got talent." The girl smiled flirtatiously.

Dean was about to make some wise crack when he heard a muffled scream coming from where he had heard the whimpering before.

"What was that?" the girl asked in a hushed tone obviously having heard it as well.

"Stay here." Dean ordered as he reached behind him for his gun only to realize a moment later that he wasn't packing. He mentally cursed himself then walked over to where he had heard the noise, sticking to the shadows and keeping his weight on the balls of his feet so he made no noise at all. As he got closer he realized that the noises were coming from an alley way to the other side of the bar. They were also becoming clearer.

"No Luke, please don't. I don't wanna." A woman's voice pleaded, clearly terrified.

"Shut up bitch and take it. You don't wanna make this harder than it has to be. Besides, all you sluts are the same. You need a good fucking to put you back in your place." An angry man's voice growled.

By now Dean had heard enough to figure out what was going on around the corner and he turned it just in time to see one of the bikers from the alley way hit the frightened woman he had bodily pressed up against the alley wall. Dean saw red. Flashes of his own rape flashing in front of his eyes and a cold white furry took over him. It was as if the whole world got put on mute and his vision tunneled to the biker who was busy pulling his hard dick from his pants.

Dean didn't even feel himself moving, it was as if his body had a mind of its own and he was just a bystander watching it. He moved quickly towards the biker with a deadly intent and pulled him off the shocked woman. The biker turned to him with an angry scowl on his ugly features and was about to say something to Dean but he never got a chance. Dean's fist made sure of it as he let it fly right into the guy's mouth. The guy went down but it didn't even deter the incised hunter who followed him landing punch after brutal punch. The other guy never even had a chance.

Dean just kept on hitting, until the biker's face was a bloody mess of teeth and pummeled flesh. Then there were hands pulling at him, trying to get him off. He turned for only a second and swung blindly at whoever was trying to stop him from annihilating this piece of fucking shit. The desperate hands were back and with them sound started to filter back in through his blinding rage.

"Dean stop! You're going to kill him! Stop!" it was Sammy's voice but it sounded terrified and desperate all at once and it was enough for common sense to filter back in. Dean let himself be pulled off the unconscious biker and away from the prone and bloody body.

Dean sat panting heavily and watched the girl who had almost been raped by that fucking bastard scream. She knelt over her boyfriends body, hands ghosting not knowing where to touch and screamed at him to wake up.

The older Winchester's body started shaking from the adrenaline wearing off and he looked down at his hands, his knuckles bloody, the skin torn from where it connected with the guy's teeth, but the majority of the red liquid wasn't his. The rest of his senses came back to him, "Sammy?" he asked, his voice sounding small even to him.

The warm arms which were wrapped around him tightened and Sam answered, "It's ok Dean." Sam said as his hand hooked under Dean's arm and he hauled his brother to his feet, "We gotta get out of here before the cops show up." He told Dean then maneuvered them back over to the Impala. He threw Dean in the passenger seat then tore out of Bill's car park and back to the motel.

---

Dean let Sam drag him into the motel room and push him on to his bed. He felt numb. His body, mind and spirit. There was no question in his mind that that asshole hadn't deserved a good beating on for what he'd tried to do to that woman but the thing that was freaking him out the most was the fact that he'd lost control.

God damn it the whole point of him trying to recover was so that he could get back control of his life, not loose it like he had in that room when that bastard had taken it from him. And now he'd gone and lost it. Christ, he was such a fuck up. He looked down at his bloody hands and felt his stomach turn.

"Dean what the hell happened?!" Sam cried out from where he was pacing from one side of the motel room to the other.

"He tried to rape that girl Sam." Dean said simply.

Sam stopped his pacing and looked at his brother. Well that did actually explain everything.

He walked over to Dean, "You okay?" Dean turned and looked up into Sam's eyes. They held their gaze long enough for Sam to realize that his question was a stupid one, of course his brother wasn't ok. There gaze broke and both brothers retracted into their heads.

"Nah, I'm okay." Dean said numbly. This was all so fucked up. He half wanted to curl up and be nice and warm inside his own head again. He couldn't do that to Sammy again though.

The two Winchester men sat in silence for a long time, both thinking everything through. Dean about what had happened tonight and Sam about the experience he had had that night at the graveyard when that bastard had decided to share his brother's feelings with him. All of that and now whatever feelings Dean was harboring over what had just happened before as well. Fuck! How much could his brother take?! Sam finally exploded, "Come on man, talk to me! You can't do this by yourself forever!" he exclaimed trying to get it through his brother's thick skull.

Dean sighed and clasped his hands together, keeping his eyes on them. He traced the small blood covered wrinkles that were over his now split knuckles, the various scars and the fine hairs. He knew Sam wanted to talk about his own rape. He had read a few of the pamphlets that he'd found in Sam's bag by accident about rape and how to deal with it. Every single one said that the victim, god he still couldn't get over applying that term to himself. That the victim should talk about his/her feelings to someone they trust, be it a friend, family or a psychiatrist. He closed his eyes tightly and opened them when he exhaled. He may as well try it. What the hell else did he have to lose? Besides, maybe if he could get this off his chest then something like tonight wouldn't happen again.

"It's hard," he started, voice quiet and eyes firmly planted away from Sam's face, "It's like, I've always relied on myself. It's been me and I couldn't even stop it from happening. How pathetic am I."

"Dean you're not path-" Sam tried to say but Dean cut him off.

"Sam, don't. You wanted me to talk about it, now let me talk. I'm not saying how I feel is right, but its how I fucking feel! And I'm sorry if that lets you down, Sammy." Dean said then looked at his brother. Sam was quiet he seemed to understand that Dean needed to get this off his chest before he lost the will to. So Dean continued.

"I couldn't do anything Sam. I couldn't stop him! Hell I couldn't even protect you!" Dean cried out and looked Sam in the face. He noticed the bruise forming on Sam's cheek. Oh god, had he put that there? He couldn't do anything right! His eyes were filled with tears and hopelessness. Fuck!

"If it wasn't for you I'd be dead. Hell so would you Dean! You were the only thing that kept us alive in that room!"

"I broke. He," Dean paused to gain his composure and forced the words out for the first time, "He raped me Sam. He raped me and there was nothing I could do about it. And I couldn't cope man. I checked out. I left you alone with that fuck. God, what if. What if he had have done that to you too and I wasn't there to stop him Sam? What if he had killed you and there was something I could have done. Gotten him away from you but all I did was just lay there and feel sorry for myself?!" Dean cried out, ignoring the tears in his eyes.

Sam quickly walked to where Dean was sitting and crouched in front of him, looking up and catching his brother's eye. He had to get that look of pure anguish off Dean's face. It was killing him.

"Dean listen to me." He waited until he was sure he had the elder's attention, "You saved my life. You kept him away from me and none of it was your fault. Those are just what ifs and they didn't happen. We're both here now. As safe as a Winchester can be. Man you can't have control all the time. It just doesn't work like that."

"But I should Sam, I should always have control. Because if I don't someone is bound to get hurt. And I can't take that on my conscious Sam, I just can't. And then again tonight, I lost control. I couldn't stop myself. What the hell is wrong with me Sam?" Dean asked, voice small like a lost child as his tears finally broke through despite his efforts for them not to.

"Dean there is nothing wrong with you! That guy got what he deserved. You saved that girl Dean." Sam said and placed his hand on Dean's denim covered knee in a gesture of support, "And you kicked my ass in pool." Sam smiled.

Dean laughed at Sam's attempt to lighten the mood but it turned into a chocked sob halfway through. A few more tears rolled down Dean's beautiful yet blood splattered cheeks. He sniffed then wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"All right Francis. That's it, you've reached your chick-flick quota for the year. Now get off me, I'm gonna go have a shower." Dean said, his voice a bit scratchy from his breakdown. He got up and took off his jacket, throwing it on the bed behind him.

"Dean shouldn't we be getting out of here before the cops come looking for us?" Sam asked.

"Nah, that guy tried to rape her, he's not going to involve the police. Besides I think Sophie has a thing for me." Dean smirked and waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his brother.

"The girl in the office? Ha, you wish Dean." Sam laughed and shook his head.

"Hey, all girls want me Sam. Whether they can see me or not. I just give out sex pheromones. Ladies just can't help themselves."

"You have no shame." Sam laughed then called out to Dean when his brother went into the bathroom, "Don't use all the hot water!" he got flipped off for his effort.

Dean closed the bathroom door and took a deep breath. He walked forward and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He and Sam hadn't spoken about everything they could have, but he'd gotten some important things off his chest. He felt lighter. Huh, maybe that talking crap did work. He looked into his eyes. They looked greener, lighter like somehow some of the darkness that had been behind them had fled him with his words. He was still coming to terms with everything that had happened to him. He doubted he'd ever really be whole again. But then again hey, when had he ever been.

* * *

So that's it. I hope you liked it ) This nearly killed me trying to write it and I did massive re-writes on the whole thing. I'm hoping I did okay on the chick-flick moment between the boys and I know not everything was probably covered but I did my best. I think that Sam not mentioning what the ghost had done to him, sharing Dean's pain, was the way to go. It just seemed like something the canon Sam would do to spare his brother more pain knowing that Sam knew. 

I'm not thinking about a sequel at this point but you never know what might happen. Besides, I never thought that this story would be as accepted and loved as it is. I honestly thought when I was considering posting this that if I did I'd only get around 50 reviews and a ton of hate mail. So you can imagine how happy I am at how this has turned out. It's my most successful story to date and my baby too lol. I have quite a few other bunnies running around inside my head which I will be getting to soon. One last thing to say: Please review and let me know what you thought! Loved it? Hated it? Thought it needed more? Let me know P

Mishka xXx


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